#even in the face of the whole world telling you how wrong it is and how insane and unhinged you are for it and condemning you for it

[sparrow-and-seed-scrawls]

“How many agents have you trained?” The former student asked from the opposite side of the office, hand curved around the hilt of a rather large knife. It shone in the flickering fluorescents, too real-looking to be a stage prop.

Dr. Thatcher had taught acting for decades. He’d bought this building on this side of New York twenty-something-odd years ago after leaving his position at a university several hundred miles away. He needed something fresh, something new. It was the curse of being driven, he liked to think. When things slowed down, it was time to try something new.

He’d used the little left in his bank account to buy books and tools, then advertising. Affordable acting classes from a professional (he’d acted in a few off-broadway shows before his teaching days). He’d grown popular quickly, so quickly it surprised him.

Things hadn’t slowed down for years. Twenty-something-odd years. Years filled with monologues and studies and new batches of students bright-eyed and eager to make a mark in the world of show business.

He’d moved frequently, different cities with different people. He grew bored of the same place, and everywhere he went seemed to demand his services. He never had a small class, never had less than forty students a year.

Students that, once graduated, he was never able to find again. Not on social media, the news, the internet (which he did know how to use, thank you very much). Strange, but New York was huge. He came up with thousands of excuses to ease his wonderings.

Right now, though, with his former student in front of him with a knife, those excuses were growing increasingly difficult to justify.

“Graham, I’m—”

The student stepped closer, knife still raised. His blond hair was pulled into a neat knot at his neck, his clothes pressed. Strange for what seemed to be a robbery.

“Answer my question, Dr. Thatcher. Or are you even a doctor? Maybe your whole identity is a front, too.”

Dr. Thatcher raised his eyebrows, but kept his hands raised. It was off-putting, but not yet scary. He cleared his throat. “Graham, truly, I have no idea what you’re asking. Perhaps we can sit down and discuss…?”

“No. You can tell me, right here. How many agents have you trained?”

“I don’t train acting agents.” He said it carefully, watching the young man’s face.

“Secret agents,” he grit out.

A moment passed. The young man must have seen the confusion on Dr. Thatcher’s face, because he continued:

“Secret agents for the CIA. Hundreds of your students are employed with them. Don’t think you can pretend your way out of this one.”

Dr. Thatcher laughed, then. Out loud. Which was probably the wrong thing to do, but it was absolutely ridiculous! He, a sixty-one-year-old man who lived in a plain flat with only his cat, training—he couldn’t even finish the thought!

Graham lowered the knife, but didn’t put it away. “Why are you laughing? What scheme do you have planned, because whatever it is, put an end to it.”

“I—” Dr. Thatcher struggled to form words around his laughter, “—agents?! for the CIA? I can only imagine!”

“You… you’re not serious, are you?”

Dr. Thatcher wiped the tears from his eyes. “I have absolutely no inkling of what you’re talking about.”

“The agents of 26104. The ones you trained in espionage?”

He shook his head.

Graham cursed and ran a hand down his face. “I have the records. I have photo evidence of it all!” He sheathed his knife in an impressive twist of the wrist and tossed a file on the desk. Several photos slid from the manilla.

“Yes! Oh, I remember Elsie. And Patrick! A wonderful comedian.” The warmth of nostalgia spread through his chest. These were his students, ones he hadn’t seen in years, ones he’d sent off with so much enthusiasm! How he’d longed to know where they’d ended up, how they were doing.

“They’ve done well?” He looked back to Graham finally.

“If you count ‘well’ as brainwashed into working for a dangerous operation with the CIA, then yes. They’ve done ‘well’.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and his face matched. “You’ve tried to run from it—oh, it took years for me to track you down after I escaped the CIA. But we’re past that. Tell me who your contact is.”

“I have no contacts. I’m an acting professor!”

This was not what Dr. Thatcher had expected or hoped for when he’d found Graham waiting in his office. A catch-up, perhaps, or help with a last-minute monologue.

——

Yeah so uhhhh I didn’t finish this one ☝️ but ☝️ perhaps I will later

You teach several highly recommended acting classes, however, to your dismay, you never seem to see any of your students again. Until today, when you find one of your best pupils in your office. With weapon in hand, they coldly ask you "How many agents have you trained?"

[confessionsandcreampies]

m. kaiser relationship headcanons

he flirts like it’s a competition—you: “i like your outfit.”— kaiser: “i’d look even better wearing your lip gloss and nothing else.” everything is a setup for innuendo. you blush once and he grins like he just won a world title.

spoils you disgustingly—buys you luxury things constantly. if you so much as glance at a necklace in a shop window? boom. it’s on your pillow tomorrow. “my girl doesn’t wear cheap,” he says, adjusting your new diamond bracelet with one hand on your thigh.

posts the hottest pictures of you—his socials are like a shrine. midriff shots. your hand in his. a blurry photo of you asleep on his chest with ‘mine’ in the caption. the thirst comments roll in and he replies, “don’t even try. she’d never look at you.”

gets lowkey clingy when he’s insecure—if you’re quiet or busy for too long, his ego takes a hit and he suddenly appears like, “did i do something wrong? should i take my shirt off?” you laugh, and he melts. “knew you still loved me,” he mutters, pulling you into his lap.

talks about you like you’re a prize—“yeah, i’ve got the best girl,” he tells everyone with a smug little tilt of his head. “brains, beauty, taste. you’re lucky she even talks to you.”

smirks the whole time—he looks so cocky when he’s fucking you. leaning in close, watching your face twist with pleasure. “there she is,” he purrs. “falling apart on my cock like a good girl. you love this, don’t you?”

absolute possessive dom—he leaves marks on purpose. hickeys on your collarbones. scratches down your thighs. his hand wrapped around your throat while he growls, “you’re mine. you understand? no one else gets to see you like this.”

praise + degradation kink hybrid—“you’re so pretty like this. look at you, stuffed full, dripping, shaking like a needy little mess. that’s my girl.”

mirror sex obsessed—he wants you on all fours in front of the mirror, back arched, your teary, wrecked expression reflected back at you. “look at yourself. that’s how perfect you look when i’m ruining you.”

will absolutely make you beg—you don’t just get his cock. you have to earn it. he’ll tease you with his fingers, suck on your inner thighs, whisper against your skin, “how badly do you want it? be honest, baby. cry for it.”

multiple rounds. no breaks—kaiser’s stamina is unholy. he’ll wreck you once, then slide back in before you’ve even caught your breath. “not done. i want to see how much more you can take.”

aftercare is possessive, not sweet—he won’t say “i love you”. but he’ll clean you up with warm hands, press kisses into your shoulder blades, and wrap you in his hoodie while muttering, “no one else gets you. ever. i’ll ruin anyone who tries.”

[traveler-at-heart]

A redhead a day (makes the doctor act gay)

Request by @natromilf - Surgeon!R, who is known for her precision, but acts all clumsy around Natasha.

Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Everyone makes mistakes.

Though some people can’t afford them. Like  you, and your line of work. One wrong move can lead to a deadly result.

It almost mirrors the life of the agents you operate on. Bad intel, a wrong turn, an ambush and the whole world can go to shit.

Which is why you take your job so seriously.

If their mission goes wrong, you’ll be there to pick up the pieces and put them back together.

That’s what you trained your whole life for and you were proud to serve SHIELD and the Avengers

Too bad med school didn’t teach you how to keep from acting like a fool when a pair of beautiful green eyes set on you.

The first time you see Natasha, you barely have time to process it was her. The Black Widow, who seems to be visiting someone, instead of looking for medical attention.

Still, you are intrigued by her presence (it was known she’d rather deal with any injuries alone). So much so, that you keep looking at her until you crash against the elevator doors.

“Shit” you mutter, your face burning up with embarrassment.

One of the interns rushes to your side, but her movements only draw further attention to you, and you sigh.

“All good, Elena” you say, hoping the next elevator comes soon.

Still, when you finally get inside and press the button to the second floor, your eyes meet Natasha’s once again.

When she winks at you while sporting a teasing smile, you wonder if she can read your very flustered thoughts.

—

That first impression was bad. You were hoping that if you ever saw Agent Romanoff again, that could be corrected.

Unfortunately for you, that is not the case.

It’s another day, between urgent calls and an extraction mission gone wrong. Three injured SHIELD agents under your care are enough to make the first twelve hours of your shift fly.

By the time you have a minute to sit down and rest, it’s close to midnight, your eyes heavy with exhaustion and missed sleep. But you still have to review charts and follow up with post ops, so going to the cafeteria will have to do.

“What a fucking night” your friend Daphne says, standing next to you as you pour some coffee in a disposable cup. This and the vending machines are your only choices in the middle of the night.

“Tell me about it” you sigh, adding sugar. That won’t make the dark beverage any better, but you gotta try. As you look up, you see Captain America walking down the hallway, face full of soot and suit torn in some places.

Right behind him, Natasha walks with purpose, frowning and reviewing a file. She looks busy enough, so you think you’re free to admire her without the woman noticing. But of course, she’s a trained spy. As soon as she feels someone staring, she turns to look at you.

“Damn, the Avengers are here, this must have been real bad” Daphne says next to you. You don’t listen.

Not when those green eyes are fixed on you, frown softening and the corner of those full, enticing lips turning into a playful smirk.

“Oh, careful. The coffee is super hot…”

It’s obvious you miss that part too, taking a large gulp to hide your blush.

“Fuck” you spit it out. “Oh, God, I have third degree burns, Daphne, help” you say like an idiot, tongue hanging out.

“I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL” she barks, making some people stare.

Gosh, you just know Natasha was looking and must think you are a total idiot. Or maybe not, because when you finally recover from the burning sensation, she’s not standing next to Captain America.

Oh, maybe she didn’t see me.

“Hi, there”

You’ve never heard her voice before. And yet, you know it’s her.

You slowly turn to look at Natasha. She’s even more perfect than you imagined.

“Hot” you blurt out.

“Pardon?” she says, her voice dropping an octave.

“Coffe is hot. Uh, just keeping anyone from burning” you mumble, blushing madly.

“Oh, I’m not here for the coffee. I was told you were in charge of the injured agents. Could I get an update on them?”

“Right, of course. Come with me”

You walk next to Natasha, hiding your hands in the pockets of your labcoat.

“Agent Lusaque needed a liver resection. He’ll recover with no issues. Agents Palmer and Bryant, on the other hand…” you sigh, pulling out their charts from the nurse’s station. “Palmer is in the ICU, and Bryant will need a second surgery for that broken leg. But we need her BP to stabilize”

“Did you see anything significant in their injuries? Anything that stood out?”

“I’d say they are consistent with an IED, Agent”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. Old man wanted to wait for intelligence but sometimes you just know” Natasha sighs. You resist the urge to reach out and squeeze her shoulder. Her expression shifts to something neutral, and you know the moment of vulnerability is gone. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your hot coffee”

“Of course. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know”

“Will do. Bye, Doctor Y/L/N”

And with that, she’s gone.

—

For once, it’s a slow day. You discharged the agents that were involved in last week’s mission and are about to take a break, when you hear some cursing in one of the examination rooms.

“Everything ok?”

You’re expecting to see an intern struggling with an IV, but instead you’re greeted with the sight of Natasha trying to stitch herself. She looks from the gash in her leg to you, smiling.

“Yeah, all good”

“No! You’re not even wearing gloves!” you protest, looking horrified at how badly she’s doing. Before she can open her mouth to answer, you push her down the hospital bed, glaring. “Do not move”

“It’s just a small cut. And I don’t need anesthesia”

“Hush, Romanoff. Or I will place you on medical leave” you say, glaring at her.

You expect Natasha to apologize or at the very least look ashamed. But instead, she’s still smiling.

This is a nice change for her. She’s only seen you flustered, being a complete mess when she’s around. Now, though, your movements are calculated as you prepare the sutures and glove up.

“How did you do this?” you ask, your tone even. This must be routine for you.

“That’s classified” Natasha jokes with a little smile. You clear your throat, adjusting the light to focus on the gash.

“Doesn’t stop other agents from telling me”

“Who?” Natasha says, and you can’t help but laugh at her tone. She seems ready to kick their asses for sharing classified information.

“I’m kidding. They tell me family stuff, small things, really. It’s to keep them talking, if only to distract them from the pain. Sometimes I get good gossip, too”

Natasha watches you work in silence for a few moments. Even if she tries to act though, the needle piercing her skin always sends a shiver down her spine.

“I have a cat” she blurts out. For the first time since you started working, you look up. It’s Natasha’s turn to feel like a blubbering mess, admiring your beautiful eyes.

“That sounds nice”

“Do you like cats?” she winces at how lame she sounds, but you mistake it with pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m almost done. Yes. My father is a veterinarian and we had a family farm, so there were all types of animals around” in spite of yourself, you smile.

Now, you live in an all white world of sterile hallways and OR lights. But your days were once spent in the middle of feeding chickens, walking around the muddy fields and checking horses and cows.

“So, why not be a veterinarian?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I remember this one time where a worker fell and hurt his head. It took a while for help to get to us and my father left me alone with him while they found a doctor. But I wasn’t scared. I knew I could keep my cool around blood, unlike my sisters”

“That’s definitely helpful”

“Yeah, except when my Dad figured out I was the only one who’d be able to help so I’d work during school break” you laugh, remembering everything with a new light. You used to hate it back then, because it was early mornings and lots of work. But now it’s a fond memory.

“The rumors are true. Your work is impeccable” Natasha comments when you remove your gloves. “Where were you when that bullet went through my side?”

“That’s classified” you say, and feel a small surge of pride when she actually laughs. You stand up and look around for antibiotics.

“Is that really necessary?” Natasha grumbles, and you roll your eyes.

“An infection in the 21st centhury is the dumbest way to go. Take these for five days. And rest”

“Yes, Doctor”

“If you have any questions, page me” you say. Now that your hands and mind are not focused on the task of stitching her up, you’re aware of the fact you’re alone with Natasha in a room. If you stay here any longer, you’ll probably stab yourself with a needle or something even more idiotic.

“What if you’re not working?” Natasha calls when you walk to the door.

“Well, I’m sure someone else could…” you begin to say, completely oblivious about what she’s really asking.

“Or…”

“Yes?”

“I could get your phone number? For a consult, of course” she adds, smiling as you blush.

“Of course” you echo her words, pulling out a card and scribbling your number. “My personal number”

“Thanks, Doc” she says, lingering in the door for a second too long, and somehow getting out before you, who had been standing next to it for some time now.

Naturally, the second she’s out of sight, you pull the door to exit and it bounces against your foot, hitting your forehead.

“That’s more like it” you mumble, rubbing the spot.

At least she didn’t see it this time.

—

Your name is at the top of a list, but it doesn’t bring you any benefits, or enjoyment.

It means that when an Avenger gets hurt, you’re the first person they’ll page for surgery.

Two days ago, the code appeared suddenly in your pager and your heart dropped. You couldn’t help but think of Natasha, and guilt and shame invaded you in equal parts when you prayed it wasn’t her. The shame hit once you found out it was Barton, and you couldn’t help but feel relieved.

He had a bullet wound that went through and through, but you still decided to operate and clear your schedule to follow up every hour of his recovery. Clint had trusted you enough to introduce you to his family, to the point where you had been their doctor during the birth of Lila and Nathaniel.

Laura knew what happened, and was happy to hear you were overseeing his recovery. Barton was in good spirits, always welcoming any excuse to take leave and be at his farm.

So, as you both waited for his lab results, he began to throw cereal at you, saying he could aim exactly at your mouth even if you moved.

And he proves to be right, most of the time.

Because when Natasha walks in the room, you move your head to look at her and a piece of cereal hits you square in the eye.

“Barton!” you say, covering with one hand. “Oh, my God! I can’t go blind. I won’t operate again”

“You moved!” Clint protests.

“You said I could move!”

“Hey, it’s ok” Natasha says, kneeling in front of you. When you remove your hand and blink several times, you can tell she’s trying to hold back laughter. Glaring, you decide to swat her hand away, but then she’s craddling your face, smiling softly.

“I guess I’ll ask Fury for an eyepatch” you say after looking at her lips for a second too long.

Natasha rolls her eyes, and then turns to look at her friend.

“Maybe you should retire”

“I do more work at the farm than here, Tasha. I’m fine. Tell him, Doc?”

“Through and through, no shattered bones. But he still needs to rest” you say, standing up to take his results. You begin to go through everything, not paying attention to what Natasha and Clint are talking about.

Until…

“The mission can wait” he insists.

“You know I can’t”

“I’d feel better if you had someone with you. Take Steve, Wilson. Even Maximoff could be…”

“I’ll think about it” Natasha interrupts him. But her tone is clear; she’s not changing her mind.

Your stomach twists at the idea of Natasha being in a dangerous situation, which is stupid. For one, that’s her literal job and also, you’re just a doctor from SHIELD. She doesn’t care about you, and your own interest shouldn’t go beyond a professional capacity.

“You’re ready for discharge, Agent Barton” you say, trying to pretend you didn’t hear the exchange. “I’ll get the paperwork ready”

“Thank you, Doc”

You nod, leaving them to their conversation. You hope Clint can convince Natasha to postpone whatever mission she needs to go on, but you can’t say you’re optimistic about his chances.

While you review the paperwork, your mind goes back to the few text messages you’ve exchanged with Natasha ever since she asked for your number. Of course, it started out as a consultation over her stitches. You, checking up on her. Then, some random texts throughout the day. Still, nothing  that indicated she was thinking about asking you out.

Once you’re done with paperwork and run into her, you decide to take your chances.

“Hey, about what Clint said…”

“About working more when he’s home? He’s just being a baby, Laura…”

“No. The mission”

“That’s class…”

“Classified, I know. I just… promise to be careful. Please?” you fidget with your hands, looking at your feet.

“What? You don’t want to see me around?” she jokes.

“Not as a patient” you say, blushing at the way it comes across.

“So, maybe, when I’m back from that mission…” she says, smiling as she inches closer to you. Your breath hitches, but you don’t back down, or look away when her green eyes meet yours. “We can go out for dinner?”

“I’d like that”

Natasha nods, her hand reaching for yours as she leaves the hospital.

All you want is for her to come back, safe and sound.

—

We can’t always get what we want.

When you get paged, and see the code, you know it’s Natasha.

Daphne rushes right behind you, straight to the Medbay where Natasha’s getting evaluated.

Steve, Sam and Wanda are already there, but there’s another woman. She has blonde hair, and is wearing a suit you don’t recognise as something SHIELD agents use.

“Doctor…” Steve rushes to your side, but you shake your head.

“Tell me what happened. Now!”

Nurses and doctors step aside as you look at the X-rays, vitals and injuries. There’s a lot of blood, and Natasha is slipping in and out of consciousness.

“There was an explosion. Please, you have to help her” the blonde finally says. “Help my sister”

Those words make you falter for a second, but then BP’s crashing and you don’t have time to think about the fact that Natasha has a sister.

“We can’t wait. She has flail chest and her lung is collapsed. Page Lane, we’re moving to the OR now”

Everything becomes a blur, with people moving and prepping for surgery. The staff is trained for this and you have everything ready in under 5 minutes.

“Do you need anything else?” the head nurse says as you prepare to start.

“Silence. And focus. All of you. We’re gonna be here a long time”

7 hours, two units of blood and a lot of stitches later, Natasha is transferred to the ICU.

“I should have gone with her” Barton mumbles when you give the team an update. But he’s still wearing an armsling, and there’s no point in thinking about this now.

“Can I see her?” the woman who called Natasha her sister says, eyes red from crying.

“Later. Only staff can be at the ICU. I’ll stay with her, you go shower, eat something. Natasha needs to recover, she’ll be out of it for at least another day”

No one seems pleased with the idea of leaving the hospital, but Steve insists and they follow him, as usual. The blonde girl stays behind, and in that moment you realise she doesn’t even know Natasha’s friends.

To your surprise, she turns around and hugs you.

“Thank you. For saving her”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, because it sucks that her sister is hurt and you can’t do more for her right now.

—-

For over 22 hours, you’ve been by Natasha’s  side. As soon as she’s out of the ICU, you call Yelena.

You give her an update on her status and what to expect. She listens, only showing emotion when she sees Natasha connected to all those machines.

“Is she… does it hurt her? Is she going to be ok?”

“Her body needs time to recover. But she’ll be fine. Natasha’s strong” you say, pushing back a strand of that fiery hair from her forehead. It’s silly, how much you miss her cheeky smile when you’re doing something stupid because she looks your way.

“So, you must be the girl she likes” Yelena says, making you look up.

“What?”

“While we were hiding, I asked her if she was seeing anyone. She told me she had a date with this cute doctor so we’d better hurry”

“Oh” you say, blushing. “Yeah, we were… going to dinner. When she came back”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault”

“No, it isn’t. Natasha wouldn’t want you to think that. Come here, sit. You can stay for as long as you want” you lead her to the couch, sitting right next to her.

“I hadn’t seen her in so long” she whispers, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“It’s ok, Yelena. You’ll have plenty of time with your sister. She’s gonna be out of missions for at least a month. But she’ll probably be grumpy about it” you joke, and the blonde laughs.

Exhaustion finally catches up with both of you, and without realising, Yelena ends up asleep on your shoulder. With a sigh, you close your eyes, convincing yourself it will only be for a couple of minutes.

By the time you open your eyes, a raspy chuckle makes you look up.

“I knew Yelena would like you”

“You’re up” you say, letting the blonde rest against the couch and standing up to check Natasha. You go over her blood pressure, the IV and pupils, but are interrupted by her hands holding on to your wrists.

“Hi” she says, smiling up at you.

“Hello, Agent. Can I please finish my examination?”

“What do I get in return?”

“Getting discharged”

“Trying to get rid of me?” she taunts and you have to roll your eyes. It’s been almost two days since she almost died and here she is, being a smartass.

“You’re the one who went through all the trouble just to get out of our date” you joke. Natasha doesn’t get to protest, because Yelena wakes up, rushing to her side.

“Sestra! Are you ok?”

Yelena switches to Russian, talking so fast even Natasha has trouble keeping up with her.

“Let’s just calm down, ok? I’ll give you guys a minute” you say, smiling at Natasha as Yelena drags a chair to sit next to her sister. You have a feeling that there are some things they have to talk about.

—

Time goes by quickly, and before you know it, it’s been three weeks since Natasha’s surgery. You’ve been texting more frequently, but you’re not expecting to see her anytime soon. Between reconnecting with Yelena and recovery, she has more than enough on her plate.

Work is distracting, but not enough. During small breaks you do end up thinking about her, and missing her.

You think nothing of it when you get paged to do a follow up, as it is a slow day and you’re short staffed.

But when you open the door, Natasha is smiling at you, in that way that makes you act like a fool. The shock lasts a second, and then you worry.

“Hey. Are you feeling ok? Why are you here? Are you hurt? I told you not to train for another week” you spiral, getting ready to order X-rays and a CT scan immediately.

Natasha calls your name, once and then louder, when you don’t look up from her file.

“I just wanted to see you” she says, making you blush. “But there’s this thing too. Thought I should get it checked”

“Ok, what is it?”

“Well, in spite of all the rumors, I do have a heart. And it has been beating faster, and I get this feeling in my stomach…” she begins to say. You nod, pulling out your stethoscope.

Natasha watches with a smile as you listen to her heartbeat, thinking how adorable you look when you’re all focused. Without realising, your other hand goes to rest on her knee, and she can’t help but let out a sigh, wishing you could be even closer.

“Ok, I hear it. It’s beating a little bit faster” you say, still oblivious. “Is there anything specific triggering this…?”

“I have an idea” she says, her hands resting on your waist. You finally look up, eyes lingering on her lips. Natasha sees realisation in your features, and takes it as a sign to inch closer, her lips brushing against yours.

It’s quick and tender, but it still makes your knees weak.

Well, this is going to be a problem. No way you can go back to work now that this happened. You’ll be so distracted that you’ll end up running over someone with a wheelchair or something.

“Let’s check again. Just wanna make sure your heart is ok” you say, leaning forward. You feel Natasha smile into the kiss, hands pulling you against her.

“What did the doctor say? Ah, gross!” Yelena walks in a moment later. “I didn’t think you meant this kind of physical exam, Natasha”

“Get out!” Natasha shouts, and you have to laugh.

“Gladly” Yelena huffs, slamming the door. She adds a second later. “And I’m telling everyone at the Compound!”

“So annoying” Natasha mumbles, but turns to look at you with a smile. “Is it anything serious? Will I be ok, Doc?”

“Yeah, you just need to kiss me more so your body gets used to the feeling” you say, meeting her lips in another kiss.

“I can definitely do that”

[luvseisagi]

—s. across the wrong universe.

chapter 15. canon event ii: the fall.

(🕷️) smau + narrated ch.

content. cussing. angst.

you were never supposed to take that many coffees.

five americanos —not even your usual sweet coffee order. no water. no food. just caffeine buzzing through your bloodstream like a countdown you hadn’t even realized had started. 

you had just had an exam, and since you’ve been anxious for the last two weeks, you linked unease to the exhaustion after the test. so when your friends tell you they want to go to this new restaurant in manhattan, you accept without thinking much. you’ll be fine once you sit and have a sip of water.

but you’ve walked just a few blocks to get the subway, and now you’re not fine.

you’re surrounded by the boys—chigiri, nagi, reo, and rin, walking beside you, everyone talking about something and nothing and laughing about a joke you didn’t catch. your mind is fraying. your hands feel cold despite the sun, and everything around you is too bright, too loud, too much. when you enter the platform, it gets even worse.

the heat is stifling, the fabric of your sweatshirt itches against your arms, but your whole body feels frozen. your mouth is dry and pasty from dehydration, and the aftertaste of coffee in your tongue is making you want to throw up. you take uneven steps, trying to keep up with chigiri next to you, but there are too many people and suddenly you can't see anyone —the faces blur together. the colors blend. thousands of black dots invade your entire vision— and the voices feel distant, as if someone had put you in a glass jar.

you don’t say anything, and no one notices when you suddenly stop in the middle of the platform. you no longer see chigiri's red hair, reo's back, nagi's figure, or rin's shadow —just a large mass of colors that suddenly merges into black. 

and you don’t even stumble because of someone else. your legs suddenly forget how to walk, and they falter.

no one sees it when your foot misses the edge of the platform, and no one sees it before you fall —you’re already unconscious, so your body is a dead weigh as it disappears. there are no screams, no cries. just the edge of a dream unraveling before anyone can notice it was even there.

rin’s the first to realize it —the space behind him suddenly feels too empty. he’s been listening to reo complain about his father’s unannounced trips the whole way, so he hasn’t been able to talk to you yet, but he’s been conscious of your presence at his back the whole time. and now, suddenly, he doesn’t feel it anymore.

he glances to the left, says your name softly. then again —asking. then pleading. once. twice. he turns fully and you’re not there.

his stomach drops. he doesn’t even able to warn the others —panic takes hold of him just like it did three days ago.

and then it happens.

a scream from the other end of the station, near the entrance —sharp, piercing, terrified. an old woman, he realizes as he turns to her, her hand trembling as she points.

“there’s a girl on the tracks! someone save her!”

rin’s world stops.

people freeze, someone gasps, there are already phones in hands, recording. reo —or maybe chigiri— calls out to rin as he starts walking, running, away from them —but his voice is drowned out by the sudden sound of the train approaching, building up like a drumbeat in rin’s ears. it’s too fast, it’s too close. he can’t think —he just races.

and, waiting in the other platform, so does isagi —he hasn’t even received bachira’s signal yet, but he can’t help it. his body acts before his brain does.

they both move at the same time —like something ancient has snapped awake in their chests. unwitting like instinct, innate like survival, raw like terror.

rin reaches first, and isagi gets there just half a second later. 

it's an unnatural quickness, a reaction time impossible for a normal human, much less two. but the public’s shock is enough to make it look logical—two boys jumping in to save a girl, just in time.

once sitting on the floor of the platform, a circle of people around him, rin pulls you up. his arms wrap around you before your body even fully registers in his vision—he holds you like something sacred. something already slipping away. 

when he caresses your cheek softly, your skin is cold —your lips dry, your pulse faint.

but you are real. and you are there.

the train roars past you, and people are already talking and passing by —a miserable, insignificant moment that someone will upload to social media later. but it practically gives the two boys sitting next to you a heart attack.

isagi is beside you, shaking, voice broken as he dials emergency services. he’s already pulling a bottle of water from someone’s bag, thanking them for their help —scanning the platform with his eyes. he finds bachira at the far end, too far to be the one who pushed you.

he looks at your face —eyes closed, expression relaxed, as if you were finally getting the nap you’ve been needing for days.

isagi swallows, throat dry —the fear of losing you, upon seeing your inert body on the tracks, tore at his insides, but seeing you peacefully lying in rin's arms is even worse.

because isagi isn’t the one who saved you. because he isn’t the one who gets to hold you. because he can't be the one caressing your cheek, feeling your skin beneath his fingers, waiting for you to wake up and see him first.

but he has no right to ask for that, either.

so he chooses to be the logical one, pushing down every messy thought into a corner of his mind. he’s so calm it feels automatic —the kind of calm born from fear so sharp it crystallizes into action. he has to act now. he can break later.

on the other side, rin still has you in his arms, but he can’t move —he’s kneeling on the ground, cradling you, the hand on your cheek now gripping your fingers so tightly it must hurt. he just stares down at your face. 

you’re pale, slack, unconscious —you don’t look like you’re sleeping at all to him. you always have this little frown on your face when you sleep, but now you look peaceful. too peaceful, maybe. enough to terrify him.

for a moment, he thinks he’s too late —he truly believes he’s lost you forever. 

he hears nothing but silence until your lashes flutter, your chest catches a breath, and your lips part slightly —and the sound of his heart beating so fast rises on his ears and snaps him out of the shock.

still, it’s isagi who quickly pours water into your mouth. who finds a protein bar —and when you take a bite, he lets out a breathless laugh and says, “you scared the shit out of me.”

and you thank him, voice low, raspy and cracked. you accept his help, take his hand when he helps you sit up and lean against the wall. he confirms he’s already called an ambulance when you say your head hurts and you don’t remember anything since you entered the subway.

but when everything calms and you start feeling a little bit better, it’s rin you look for.

your eyes find his —blurry and dazed— and your arms go around his shoulders without hesitation.

he forgets to breathe when you start crying, realizing you could have just died. rin lets you cling to him and tremble in his arms —and he holds you like he’ll never let go again.

both isagi and rin give you a few minutes to collect yourself, then help you walk up the stairs. chigiri, reo and nagi are there too, and they don’t let go of your side when the ambulance arrives and professionals check you.

they say you’re fine —caffeine, dehydration and lack of food caused your fainting. no bruises. just go home, eat, rest.

so rin grabs your hand and waits while chigiri calls kunigami to pick you up. he doesn’t say a word the entire ride. doesn’t blink. just keeps his fingers tightly tangled with yours like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

once you’re home, he doesn’t even thank chigiri or kunigami —just takes you inside, gets you water, makes you sit on the couch with the cat, and starts cooking whatever he can find in the fridge.

there are no words between you, no complaints. just a silence so raw it would feel like glass shattering if it broke.

and later, when he sits with you in the sofa, some program playing on the tv, he grabs your hand again. and you don’t say anything —just let him hold you. feel your fingertips on his skin.

for a moment—just one single, devastating moment—he thought he’d lost you. and he doesn’t know how to live in a world where that could ever happen.

chapter 14. ✦ masterlist. ✦ chapter 16.

author's note. i hope everythings understandable and makes sense because i didnt proofread this, also if u think this is bad! there's even worse! sorry

tags (closed) ౨ৎ @levihanmyotp @inojuuy @blu3-l0v3r @rohfulike @inosukehana @cruziival72 @kuromixheartzzz @koko-77 @kurona-theshark @yoichiin @elliehenry24 @kuronarnze @sugarcor3 @ranzess @lovingmayday @vinzcoke @soph1sticatedly @l0v3ly-st4rs @milkteeboba @ilovewonyo @mivqko @beepbopzlorp @thatmf-jay @angelhqlo1111 @jnkosstuff @ssngkk @c4ttheart @risagichi @neeeooon @emicatz @chokifandom @n0tbelle @veyyluvezcats @saekisserfr @scoosh4you @ihsoti @nana7nana777 @sillymil @tnt-kokoo @miss-aesthetic-13 .ᐟ

﹫luvseisagi, june 2025.

[bitofanupsidedowner]

i was thinking about el in season four and how the monologue shows mike doesn't understand her as a person, and what he could've said to make it more romantic or just more effective in general 'cause i was kind of like, "wow, it's amazing how effortlessly mike said all the wrong things. it would have been so easy to just tell her he loves her and leave out the things that would hurt her!" but i don't even think that's true tbh??

like, he did royally fuck up in what he chose to say in that moment, but the whole thing was doomed already. idk why i was giving it the benefit of the doubt. their storylines this season were specifically crafted to make sure neither of them could give each other what they need (but that they could both find what they need!!) so that the scene in surfer boy pizza would be the precursor to the final nail in the coffin (season five breakup)

every single interaction they have in season four assures that the monologue won't work. every single interaction between mike and will assures it too, because every time mike tries to communicate with el in the same way he communicates with will, there's a problem, and will doesn't understand that mike makes el feel unloved.

it's all set up so there's no version that would've worked. not by that point in the story, anyway. the second mike said "you're a superhero" in the bedroom...the second she needed to ask him to say it... mike was right, that's a fight you can't come back from.

telling her at that exact moment where she once again had to save the world would just never have been enough because it wasn't a moment where she was just being el and being loved for it. it was a moment specifically about her superpowers. her personhood was relegated at the pinnacle of her "romantic arc."

mike fucked up bigtime with his word choice but i mean... it's very, very hard to sell i love you regardless of your superpowers when you're only saying it to activate those powers. and she knows that. the rest of it is just the cherry on top. the lighting, the lightning, the vines, will's kicked puppy dog look, jonathan's death glare, mike's miserable face, el crying, the lying and the peer pressuring, the fact that even under those circumstances where he is trying to save el's life he is still so reluctant to do it. all of that is terrible but honestly i don't think it would have gone differently without those things.

even if he had figured out how to cut the superhero worship out of it, her abilities (and will) would still be the only reason it would be happening. the context would always ruin it.

if mike was going to say i love you and have it be romantic, it would have been the most impactful when she didn't have them, but if she had to have them, it should've been somewhere, sometime, someplace that had nothing to do with her saving anyone.

they specifically wrote in that mike had multiple opportunities to say i love you and couldn't make himself do it. in the bedroom, when they reunite, at the gas station, in the pizza place. there was potential to give the characters time alone, but they made the choice not to. mike and will had a moment in a tiny van with two other guys and it still felt intimate. they coulda figured something out, but even when they had the perfect opportunity at the pizza place (pre-argyle interrupting) mike couldn't make himself do it, and if you look at her face you can tell she already knew he wouldn't.

we've been conditioned to think that the romantic lead stepping in at the last possible minute and saying what we thought they needed to say the whole time is all that love needs to thrive, like, we're sort of taught to ignore the rest of the picture if they end up where we think they're supposed to at some big, last minute grand gesture and i think that's why milkvans are so ready to accept the monologue as something genuine because theoretically, when we usually see this trope, it tends to work. who cares if they fight all the time? who cares if they can't communicate, have nothing in common, if he gaslights her, if he triggers her, if they both make each other feel worthless? they said i love you! that means it's okay!

anyway idk i'm rambling i just think el deserves so much better than this. and i need to stop giving milkvan the benefit of the doubt for no reason.

✨please free her✨

[chara-cat5]

lads isekai au ch 9

reader is gender neutral, warning: swearing, mdni

masterlist

first 1

previous 8

next 10 (not out yet)

you had been avoiding it for a whole week. "it" of course being a certain dragon and his kitten. every mission jenna brought up? you volunteered. mia wants to walk home together? sorry, i have training with xavier! you came home late and left early all in the name of avoiding her.

how? how are you gonna have this conversation? to explain why you know so much? how you know sylus? and the twins? hell, everything about all of them??

you let out a huff as you shifted in your seat, feeling mia's eyes on you from her own desk. it wasn't fair to her really. she didn't do anything wrong. if anything, she probably felt betrayed by your silence... but you had just started this life here. just settled into to a rhythm with the world around you. and then sylus had to fuck all of it up!

a folded note fell on your desk and looking up, you spotted mia walking away, a frown on her face. you were hesitant, but you unfolded the note, chewing your lip as you read it.

'i get that you want space right now, but i miss you... we don't have to talk about it. i can wait till you're ready. just come home after work? please?'

fuck... how do you say no to that? you felt like a shitty lover who was always out cheating or some crap. bouncing your leg, you glanced up, meeting her gaze as she stared at you. she perked up like a freshly watered flower when you nodded slightly, a half smile tugging up her lips.

oh boy.

mia did as she promised, ignoring the elephant in the room and instead filling the silence with what she's been doing. it was nice hearing her chatter after avoiding it for a whole week. she talked about her missions, a doctor's visit, a chat she had with rafayel, normal things. once you got home, the two of you got caught up on your show, two episodes having come out since your last watch party. at some point you fell sleep, head dipping into the couch cushion, despite your fight to stay conscious.

---------------------------------

"... be quieter! you'll wake them up!"

you caught yourself before your eyes could flick open, mia's hissed whisper yell drawing you from the drowsy embrace of sleep.

"it's fiiiiinnnee. you know they sleep like a rock."

"not lately..."

you felt a wave of guilt, well aware that you've been stressing mia out all this time. if it wouldn't ruin everything, you really would come clean. trying to so as casual as possible, you stretched your limbs, eyes still screwed shut as you shifted from your place on the couch.

"oh shit-"

"see! you dumbass!"

you opened your eyes, feeling your blood run cold at the sight. another wench in your plan.

caleb.

mia didn't seem to catch it, padding over in a rush, blocking him from sight with her body.

"sorry for waking you up, i tried to tell a certain someone to stay quiet, but you know he never listens."

she shot a glare over her shoulder, caleb giving a playful shrug. his sunset gaze met yours, a smile tugging up his lips, his gaze almost soft.

"hey poppy, sorry 'bout waking you up."

you sucked in a breath, eyes wide and owlish. right, shit- you have history with him.

"o-oh it's fine, how are you doing, caleb?"

the two seemed a little surprised by your reaction, caleb slowly putting down his bag on the counter.

"how am i doing? thats your greetin'?"

mia bit her lip, leaving you to go back to the kitchen.

"they just woke up, give them time to process."

you blinked, eyebrows furrowing. what did that even mean. caleb pouted, shooting mia a look.

"first time they see me since i 'died' and they don't even care."

oh.

"don't you dare say it like that, caleb xia!"

"what? it's true!"

before they could full on squabble, you bit the bullet and jumped up and hugged caleb. he let out a soft oof as your arms squeezed around his waist, a smell of applewood and warm cotton wrapping around you. it really wasn't so bad. in fact, it felt really nice, especially when his arms came down to wrap around you too. you had been forcing yourself to be distant to these men you romanced in the video game, but there was a real comfort in letting yourself bask in your feelings. in just receiving attention from someone you gave so much attention to. your shoulders slumped as you squeezed him tighter. god, you hadn't let yourself really relax all week and it really had built up. you basked a little too hard in your feeling though, walls tumbling down as tears pricked your eyes.

"oh- hey, hey, it's okay."

you felt his voice rumble up from his chest, his hand rubbing over your back. you pressed yourself closer, hiding your face and feeling ridiculous for crying.

"look what you did! i told you not to say it like that!"

you heard mia's scolding and pulled away, wiping at your eyes.

"s-sorry..."

"don't apologize."

mia and caleb spoke over each other, both full of gentle scolding. mia came up behind you, her arms wrapping around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder.

"it's okay, poppy. you should've seen mia when she saw me."

mia let out a huff and you just knew she was glaring at him.

"they don't need to hear abou that. i think, what they need is an apology."

he sighed, slumping against the two of you. you let out a squeak, squashed between their two bodies.

" 'm sorry, poppy flower. i have my reasons, but i didn't mean to hurt you."

"i-i forgive you. now can you let go? i'm being crushed here."

he let out a chuckle, instead lifting you up entirely. you let out a scream while mia let out a sound of protest, her hand catching your arm.

"hey!"

"sorry, pips. they're mine now."

"no! give them back!"

what is going on???

.

.

entity [user] e̵n̸- encounter entity [caleb]

.

.

affinity level [2̸̧̦̬̺͇̮̟̎͜0̸̙̼́͆̋͂̋̂̒̐̈́]

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taglist: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @plzdonutpercieveme @young-adult-summer @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @asakiyu @leftpoetrymoon @hon3yydew @anemobabygirl @clandestienly @crimsonrubie @beaconsxd @yuurisfavblog @cutiesgaloree @udejoenrlddo

heya!!

i made a q & a post (didn't taglist cause i didn't want it to go like, "oh new chapter 😁... this isn't a chapter😔)

but heres a link

hopefully it makes a few things clear and i'm happy to answer anything else that isn't coming across!!

i by no means see myself as a skilled writer, so it makes sense holes are already popping.

[edit] misclicked mature content apparently??! idk

thank you for reading!!

-chara <3

[kazutteoks]

GO FOR IT! 𝜗𝜚 ; 28. take what belongs to you (5.32k wc)

the one were heeseung and you have been rivals since you started hogwarts, and only takes one event that will turn your world upside down to realize what heeseung's presence in your life truly means for you. you have to do something! you just have to go for it!

pairing: ravenclaw prefect!lee heeseung x ravenclaw prefect f!reader

a/n: taglist open! lmk if you want to be added<3

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆. 𐙚 ₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ °. ₊˚⊹

ℳr. ashbourne.

father, it's been a while since the last letter i wrote.

my apologies, i've let my emotions take control of me and when it all hit me in the face i thought i could just avoid it. but that didn't solve anything, it made me feel worse, it made me feel useless and unable to handle things the way you would have.

these last few months i've realized i still have a long way to become the head of the family you expect me to be. even when i assured you i could handle it, the load, the pressure, the responsibilities... i didn't realize the difficulties i would have until the first obstacle appeared.

she appeared out of nowhere, when i thought i was at the height of my best days at the castle, and the only thing she told me was that i should watch my back.

and i ignored it, i ignored for months the little thorn in the center of my stomach that told me something was wrong because i thought it was stupid.

because i thought 'who would be so stupid to take seriously the threat of someone you'd never seen in your life?'

now i know even the smallest warning or threat can carry a lot of weight if you're not careful at all.

then someone's small mistake caused me what i thought at the time was the biggest loss of my life, my excellent reputation with the professors, my dignity when i was yelled at in front of my friends and classmates, being called irresponsible and reckless for something i now realize i did right.

because now i know if i hadn't done anything at all, the same thing would've happened, but i'd be aware i didn't do anything.

but i did it. i saved the whole class and the guy who made the mistake. and i know headmaster doyoung wrote to you and spoke highly of me, as he always does.

and you didn't say anything. you didn't mention it in your letters, or ask me at home. i still don't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

but i didn't see it at the time. i let it consume me and make me feel stupid.

and by letting that happen, i didn't notice how she was making good on her threat.

i didn't watch my back.

and that huge mistake caused me to disappoint you when my hogwarts letter arrived without a badge, caused grandma to call me a useless little wretch, and caused her to call you a failure as a father.

i apologize once again, this time for causing you disappointment, and for causing you problems with your mother.

i thought too much about it, and i remembered mom once told you "all mistakes have solution, and if they don't, then you look for another way to fix it."

and that's the whole point of this letter, dad. tell you i'm going to fix my own mistake, and what i can't fix i'm going to amend.

i still have a long way and many things to learn to become like you but i hope next time i see you i can finally stand by your side, no longer as your little daughter, but as your future successor.

see you at winter break.

y/n ashbourne.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ - read more undercut! ˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ ₊

“are you ready? everyone will be waiting for us in the great hall.” wonyoung pulled you out of your thoughts after you tied your letter to your father's owl's leg and let it go.

“yeah... yeah uhm can you go first? i'll catch up with you in a few minutes outside the principal's office...” you avoided the black-haired girl's gaze, knowing she'd probably figured out how you felt.

and you weren't wrong, when you heard her sigh you confirmed it.

“baby, everything's going to be okay. and i'm not telling you this cause 'i already know it', i'm telling you this cause no matter what happens today, i won't let her hurt you or heeseung. i'll not allow it, none of us will.”

wonyoung takes your hand and with the same warmth she has given you every day of your life, she squeezes it gently, giving you a soft, kind, comforting look.

your heart stops pounding a little, letting you breathe more easily. and you're grateful your best friend always has that effect on you.

“i know, wonyo. and i'm grateful you're always here, taking care of me and protecting me... it's just, i don't know... sending that letter to my father... meant taking a responsibility i'm honestly afraid to take...” you murmur, looking down at the union of your hands.

talking about your feelings with wonyoung had always been so easy, not because she already knew how you felt in one way or another, but simply because that was the effect she had on people. even if you were ashamed to show your weaknesses, with her that didn't matter.

wonyoung sighs again, now with a feeling of nostalgia overflowing from her voice. “being an adult is scary, isn't it? we used to play in the jang manor teahouse while our parents were working at the ministry.”

you're immediately transported back to those days, when all you did was play at wonyoung's house, waiting for your parents to pick you up at the end of the day.

your smile never left your face back then.

“we used to believe life was that easy, but as we grew up, we were burdened with the responsibilities we'll ultimately take when they retire.” you both smile weakly avoiding looking at each other.

because even though you don't say it, you know what you mean. 'as we grew up', but everything happened after your mother passed away when you were twelve. something not only affected you and your father, but the jang's as well.

“...i shouldn't really be telling you this but... that's still a long way off, baby. and we're going to make mistakes as hell, over and over again.” you stiffened at the mention of that. you know wonyoung is very strict with herself and what she shares of her knowledge, especially with you, who used to hate knowing mistakes were inevitable. “but we're going to be okay, cause that's part of growing up, of learning how to be what they want us to be, and even better than that.”

questions catch in your throat as you bite your inner cheek to stop them.

we'll be able to fix our future mistakes?

we'll ever be as good as they hope?

they'll be proud of us?

he'll ever be proud of me?

i'll be able to be happy with the life i'll choose?

but your voice doesn't come out because you're afraid to ask, but you're more afraid of the answers you might receive.

“stop thinking about the future, think about your present, about passing your exams, enjoying our last year here, taking the justice you deserve” wonyoung takes you by the shoulders and shakes you a little “and for the love of god go on a date with heeseung already!”

her last sentence surprises you so much you end up laughing from the bottom of your heart.

“i'm tired of the cards always reminding me how he feels even when i don't ask about him! riki and i agree he uses cards like the characters in victorious: 'today snow ignored my messages again. status: depressed' my gosh, just use your side on twitter and leave my workspace alone!” wonyoung also laughs while complaining about the boy.

you know she's not really upset, she probably just finds it oddly tedious how he always ends up sneaking into her readings without meaning to.

“we will! we will! i already told you we agreed after this we'll have a real date.”

“good! i hope he has something wonderful planned or i'm going to punch him.” the girl makes a fist with her hand and you laugh again, the tense and melancholic air disperse. “feeling better now?” she caresses your hair with a light smile and finally let go your hand when you've nodded confidently. “we'll be waiting for you at the principal's office, mkay?”

“thanks wonyo.”

and the last thing you see her do before leaving the dorm is wave with her hand and give you a wink.

you sit down at your desk in front of the window again, now more relaxed than you had been in the last few months.

let's just focus on enjoy the present, and make that weirdo pay for all the damage she's done.

[somewhere in the castle that same morning]

“so, she just has to take this and...?”

“yup, needs to be cornered after taking it. don't worry, i'll be there to contain any kind of damage.”

“okay, okay...”

“...you have a plan, right?”

“of course professor, i didn't spend two weeks of my life listening to her, rambling about her boring life, trying to gain her trust just for nothing. i'm just... nervous. since the plan started i realized this doesn't just involve heeseung and y/n as victims, and if all goes well... she'll probably be sent to azkaban.”

“that'll depend on her mental state and how serious her... crimes are. and there are worse places than azkaban, you know? st. mungo's one.”

“doesn't makes me feel better.”

“...you have a very kind heart, yeosang. but you know that girl has to be stopped... 'she' probably isn't herself anymore, not if she used the wrong ancient magic.”

“i know, and that's the saddest thing. desires can be very dangerous for oneself.”

“funny you say that, she and y/n had the same desire. and they showed the two sides of the coin.”

“...you really aren't worried about your own student's future, are you?”

“well, after seeing my best friend in a trance for the last six months, where he stopped behaving like himself to defend tooth and nail the person who probably hexed him, doesn't exactly makes me appreciate her, you know?... i just want seonghwa to go back to being the gryffindor headmaster uselessly brave and bold idiot he always was, the one that students appreciated so much. and that's all, that's why i decided to help you with this... the rest, principal can decide for herself.”

“yeah... i guess i understand. i'm sorry.”

“it's okay kiddo, let's just focus on getting this over today.”

“well, wish me luck.”

“who is going to need it is her.”

you open the door of the principal's office softly, hoping to see some of your friends or heeseung's friends there. but you're only greeted with the back of your worst nightmare.

she turns around when she hears the sound of the door and after a few seconds her eyes widen in surprise, and with, what you know, is false fear.

“h-hey y/n! haven't seen you around so much, how have you been?” she uses a weak tone to ask and you roll your eyes, finally entering the office and closing the door behind you.

“i don't know, you tell me. apparently, according to you, i've been spending my time pulling your hair and pushing you in the halls like kindergarteners.” you cross your arms, looking at her with boredom. “no one's here, stop pretending.”

she stares at you before easily straightening her posture, now looking at you with a flat, emotionless face.

her real face.

“sorry y/nie, heeseung made me so angry the other day. you were just collateral damage.” she comes closer until is in front of you, your skin prickles and you want to move away but you stay glued to your place.

you know showing fear will only make her feel stronger, and you've had enough of that.

“sure i was. you don't think about how busy someone might be for your tantrums, you just do what you want.”

she laughs as if you had told her the best joke. the sound of her laughter turns your stomach, you don't like being alone with her.

“c'mon silly! how busy a simple prefect like you can be? oh y/n you're sooo funny!”

she's about to run her fingers through your loose hair but you take a step back, subtle, but she notices.

“you underestimate how busy the heiress of a great family name like mine can be. i'm always busy, of course a simple muggleborn can't understand that, right?” you hate that, you hate talking about someone's blood status but if you're going to piss her off you're going to do it right.

and if looks could kill, you would already be turned to ashes by her own hand.

“... simple muggleborn?” she whispers taking another step forward, now you can even feel her breathing and your nausea increases “do you know what a simple muggleborn can do? your father can tell you, can't he?... bet he still has the mark” you raise an eyebrow, inside wanting to scream for help.

you have no idea how the conversation led to this.

“i'm surprised at how easily you think you resemble that... man. but you're wrong about one thing. he wasn't just any muggleborn, he was the heir of slytherin. but you are-...? sorry- what was your last name again?” you frown in mock confusion, all you get from her is a lethal glare.

you laugh, moving away from her, you approach the principal's desk and something catches your attention.

you stare at the only cup there, next to a couple of parchments that looked very familiar.

“...hey, muggleborn. come here.” you think it's funny to see her reluctantly approach you, you can see her internal struggle as she doesn't want to follow your 'orders' but she does it anyway.

because in her head, she still sees herself inferior to you, just by mentioning your last name and your blood status.

“if that badge you worked so hard to get really gives you the power to do whatever you want, do this, drink all in that cup.”

“...what?” she looks at you like you've said something completely stupid. and it probably is, but since she's giving you the power to command her you're not going to waste it.

“you heard me. take that drink, i've heard the principal drinks it to get rid of wrinkles and avoid looking old. who knows, maybe you'll gain more popularity among the students that way.” you raise your eyebrows expectantly, you watch her hesitate and look around, you know she's really considering it.

fucking desperate as hell.

“what? don't tell me you're scared” you laugh, letting your head fall back “hmm, that's a shame. i really thought you were doing what you wanted, guess calling you head girl isn't that great” you take the cup while murmuring “more for me then.”

but before you could even bring the cup to your lips she snatches it from you, and downs the whole thing in one gulp.

you let out a satisfied whistle when you see her place the now empty cup on the desk and then walk around it to sit in the principal's chair.

you let her enjoy her moment of greatness, because it just made everything so much easier for you.

she doesn't even notice you've pulled out your wand.

“i don't understand your childish games, y/n. but this isn't a big deal, doesn't scare me. after all, you'll soon see me sitting in an even more important office than this one.”

“and you shouldn't do willingly what an enemy tells you to do.” these are your last words before you charm the chair so she can't get up.

you put your wand back in the case at your waist, without saying another word.

“what the...? hey!! y/n what the fuck is this!!?? free me right now, i'm not fucking playing!!” you watch her writhe in despair for another minute. you enjoy the moment, even if it's not half of what you've felt these past few months.

“you think we were playing? honey, i haven't even started” you laugh, crossing your arms before wiping all traces of amusement off your face, letting her see the completely serious look you had “and now you're going to start talking. first, what the hell did you do to headmaster seonghwa and how can you undo it?”

she laughs hysterically still trying to wriggle out of the chair. you can see traces of sweat forming on her forehead.

“and you think i'm going to tell you that easily!? you're a complete son of a...-”

for a brief second she choked on her own tongue before looking at you with terrified eyes that screamed 'what the fuck did you do to me?'

“...i-i hexed him. i used one of the last old books of d-dark magic left in the restricted section of the library... wa-wasn't an imperius but was the closest thing to it. my shitty magic isn't great for a... t-the effect only lasts a week, so i-i've been h-hexing him constantly for the past six months. c-can't be undone, you need to wait for it to end on its own, and th-that will happen t-tomorrow.”

"...good girl. see? people understand each other by cooperating" you smile falsely at her, though your hands are shaking and your whole body is bristling at her confession.

“i'm going to fucking kill you, y/n. you better set me free now.” her voice comes out hoarse and deep, and you're tempted to take a step back in pure horror, but you know there's no turning back. you have to keep going.

“yeah yeah. now, besides seonghwa, did you hexed anyone else with that book?”

she shakes her head hard, you can see her trying to bite her tongue but as soon as she opens her mouth she starts talking non-stop again.

“of fucking course i did. i hexed the professors to cheat and raise my grades. i hexed the other headmasters when they were voting for the new headgirl and made them choose me. i hexed your stupid little gryffindor friend when she challenged my authority, that damn bitch, even when she ended up day after day in the hospital wing she never stopped acting like i wasn't her damn boss.”

your heart aches hearing that. you'd heard jake's theory from heeseung's mouth, and wonhee had confirmed it the night you'd talked to your friends.

however, wonhee just said 'it's okay, lee's are strong, we are gryffindors, you know?' but hearing it from the very mouth that hurt her... it fills you with rage, it turns your stomach. there are so many ways you want to hurt her and you don't even know where to start.

“i hexed a bunch of students to praise me and badmouth you in the hallways, and i was the one who hexed myung jaehyun that day in dada class so he would make a mistake and you would get punished for being an idiot, and i could be praised by seonghwa in front of you.” she laughs, has a scared look for confessing all that but she can't stop talking.

“...you really put a lot of effort into this, didn't you?... why did you get so obsessed with me? i wasn't the only one who applied for headgirl.” you genuinely ask, it seems irrational and impossible to believe everything she did just to harm you, not physically, but emotionally and mentally.

“i know, i knew. but them? all weak idiots, they were no obstacle for me. but you, oh you. you didn't even blink when i warned you to watch your back. everyone adored you, 'y/n this, y/n that' fuck! not a single day went by that i didn't hear your fucking name accompanied by a wonderful compliment. pride, affection, admiration. i wanted... no, i needed to take everything away from you and leave you with nothing. you already had your stupid pureblood name, you didn't need anything else.” at that point she had stopped fighting your charm to get up, but her gaze was no less threatening, it even seemed to carry more hatred than before. “i knew wouldn't be easy but i did it, i snatched everything out of your hands and you acted just like the depressed bitch i expected... but that motherfucker, heeseung, if only i could've hexed him too, ugh! bet seeing me with him would've driven you completely crazy, right? you're that predictable, you damn bitch.” she laughs, mocking you. for a moment, the thought 'what if...' passes through your head.

what would've happened if she had also hexed heeseung? would you've discovered something in the end? would you've had the guts on your own to face her and your fears like you did today?

delving into that possibility terrifies you, because in that scenario none of the memories you created in the last few months would've ever happened.

“... you're fucking insane” you whisper, taking a step back. you feel the air in the room getting heavier, making it hard to breathe. “what else-... what else did you learn from that book?”

your question seems to wake her up. deep down you know her desperate, power-hungry, even astonished gaze will haunt you for a few nights when you go to bed.

because you recognize it behind all of that, the terror.

the terror that seeps into her voice, into every distorted feature of her face, into her dilated irises, into the beads of sweat that run down her neck.

“you'd be amazed at all the knowledge that man possessed, y/n. i learned to do dark magic, so much now i'm part of it, the darkness.” she knows there is no way out, and she doesn't seem to know if she likes it or if she's scared.

or if she regrets what she discovered.

“the darkness speaks to me, it tells me what to do to achieve greatness. can you believe it? someone like me can do it! even with- even with my broken and useless magic! i-i just need... i just need...!” you begin to back away when you notice a black mist begin to form around her, you're sure she'll break your charm and free herself but your hands don't seem to react to take your wand to protect yourself from whatever is about to happen.

“that's enough.”

but like a flash of light, yeosang enters the principal's office quickly. the air feels light again and when you look back at the girl in the chair, she's already back in her victim role, whining, crying and muttering for help.

you felt stupid for pitying her seconds ago.

she chose this y/n, she doesn't regret it at all even if she's scared of the shit she got herself into.

“oh yeosang, i'm so glad y-you're here! i don't know what's wrong with y/n, w-why she did this to me! i'm so scared yeosangie, please h-help me!” she whimpers, watching yeosang approach you.

the boy puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently “we'll take it from here. you did well y/n.” he whispers, gently guiding you to the door. you wonder what he means by 'we' but your answer is right in front of your eyes when you see the principal just entering.

the white-haired woman says nothing, but gives you a confident wink before walking over to where the criminal was.

“ye-yeosang? principal? you-you're going to free me, right?”

you don't hear anything else when you step out into the hallway.

you're in a trance and you only come out of it when you feel someone else's hand on your other shoulder. when you look up, you meet the kind and gentle gaze of professor yunho, but there's something else, something you recognize as gratitude.

“you did very well, y/n. thanks to you, seonghwa and your classmates are safe now.” the magnitude of your professor's words seems to not enter your head, because you don't know what to say, you don't know how to react.

that... that was it? are we really going to be okay now? i do it right?

“told you my plan was perfect, professor. snowy is smart enough to understand what she had to do just by seeing her last year veritaserum essays and a cup.”

your gaze shifts to your right, you see your friends, heeseung's friends, and him, all looking at you expectantly. not knowing whether to celebrate or worry about your lack of reaction.

“y'all should leave the castle for now, clear your minds. y'all did well, as your professor i'm proud, and as someone worried about his best friend i'm grateful with you.” yunho ruffles your and yeosang's hair, and you laugh a little, still puzzled.

“professor, headmaster seonghwa... will he be okay after so many months of...?” wonhee takes a step forward unsure of how to approach the subject, but the concern in her voice overflows. jungwon and jake behind her have the same expression.

“...i'll make sure he gets better. don't worry, he'll be fine.”

you all went to hogsmeade, and while everyone else entered the leaky cauldron, you and heeseung stayed behind.

he said they showed their memories to the principal, and she told them some seventh year prefects had been, in fact, gathering testimonies about strange things about the head girl with the other students, said the pile of parchments they had gathered looked like one of those huge, heavy books yunho asked for every year.

you briefly remembered passing by and seeing hanbin and jiwoong talking with other students in the main courtyard, parchments and quills in their hands. you wondered if heeseung had seen them at some point, too.

then, he explained how yeosang and yunho suddenly came and asked them to leave the office for a moment, and they walked around the halls a few minutes without saying anything.

seemed like even without understanding anything, the principal knew what the two of them were planning because she didn't question them.

he said then, they returned to the office, and you two were already there, everyone listened to you, and her.

they gasped after hearing how long seonghwa had been hexed. your friends tensed up when she confessed she was really hurting wonhee. heeseung's friends almost created a barrier in front of him, even when there was no danger, when she said he might've been hexed too. everyone felt the change in the air when you asked your last question.

heeseung swore it was the first time in his entire life he felt so scared when yeosang pushed them all behind him while he, yunho and the principal took out their wands.

and when wonyoung and riki tensed up and said someone had to intervene or she was going to hurt you, yeosang was already coming through the door to get you out of there.

you don't remember much after that.

your mind kept vividly replaying the expressions on that lunatic's face and the only thing that brought you back to earth was heeseung's hand squeezing yours every so often.

by the time you all returned to the castle it was already dusk, and everything was... silent, not a stifling silence, but one that for the first time in a long time you allowed yourself to enjoy.

you still couldn't say for sure it was all over, but you were absolutely sure of one thing.

at least tonight, you'd sleep completely well for twelve hours straight.

a week passed.

you never saw her again, but rumors filled every corner of the castle.

some said she was now in azkaban, others said she was in st. mungo's because she had lost her mind. some others said she had been exiled from the magical world and had her memories erased.

but professors never spoke about it, in fact, they avoided talking about her.

new quidditch season began, and gryffindor defeated hufflepuff in a landslide thanks to wonhee, who returned with renewed energy.

each and every student who was hexed by her went through check-ups and tests in the hospital wing to ensure they were okay.

seonghwa now is on temporary leave as he is hospitalized at st. mungo's. nobody talks much about it, but yunho seems calmer, so everyone knows there's nothing to worry about. the professor's substitute is quite strict and fills all of you with assignments, so you can't wait for seonghwa to fully recover and come back.

finally the castle was back to normal and everything was settling into its proper place.

you still hadn't received a reply from your father to your last letter. but it's okay, you're calm now.

dinners in the great hall were once again filled with bustle, something you had missed after spending the last month dining in your dorm.

“silence! silence please! there's something i want to announce” the principal's voice creates silence among the students who look at her attentively, she smiles satisfied “due to various... situations in the recent months, there was a fraud in our votes to elect the head girl of the castle. so we voted again after resolving the fraud. this results were made with the same decisions we had in mind for the previous votes, so the headmasters and i want that to be clear. the new head girl we'll have starting today is not a replacement, she is in fact, the one whom the title belonged all this time.” the professors sitting at the long table nodded in agreement almost in unison. you looked down at your plate and took a deep breath.

it's okay if it's not me, the important thing has already been done. it's okay, this time it's really okay.

“please, give a warm round of applause to y/n ashbourne, the real head girl of hogwarts this year!”

ravenclaw table erupted in cheers and shouts, making you jump in your seat in surprise. heeseung beside you laughed, and you looked at him with wide eyes. your heart was pounding so hard you were sure it would jump out of your chest.

“s-she said my name... she said my name right?” you looked around, at your friends, heeseung's friends, the other students, the professors, the principal, they all had smiles on their faces as they applauded you.

you can't help but remember the day of sorting ceremony. everyone applauded her, but you didn't feel the same excitement, the warmth, the smiles, the shouts.

so you knew, she didn't get any of that because it was a stolen moment, a moment that was yours.

heeseung took your hand and squeezed it, always so warm, so gentle, so full of affection.

“you have to get up and go over there. principal's calling you” and was indeed true, when you turned around the principal was holding a badge in her hand and moving it from side to side looking at you. “go for it y/n, take what belongs to you.”

your eyes filled with tears and before you knew it your body moved on its own, hugging him tightly by the neck. not a second later he hugged you back.

“thank you for never stopping believing in me. i don't know what i would've done without you.” you murmured before separating from the hug, you stood up and then the shouts and applause increased, you didn't care everyone saw you with red eyes and wet cheeks, your smile never left your face as you approached the principal.

you let her pin the badge on your uniform, feeling the weight of the silver on your heart. you looked down, the silver and blue shining brightly, greeting you.

a new badge, freshly made, for a new beginning.

for your new beginning.

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a/n: i'd planned to write only three scenes and suddenly BOOM 5k words hehe sorry i got carried away, anyways, IT'S FINALLY OVER (just this arc lmao, get ready cuz angst isn't over yet😈 but hey! i have good news, you'll see a down DOWN BAD snowyyy :b)

© kazutteoks 2025

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ꢾ꣒ ; taglist open!

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[luvmei]

STOP HOWLING!

kris, monster headcanons ゛ ⿻

cw ￫ pure fluff, unserious, lighthearted, prob ooc

chars mentioned ￫ susie, ralsei, noelle, toriel, asgore, asriel

random au where kris is a monster (dog). someone had to make this.. they did it to themself. inspired by the puppy kris allegations in recent chapters: see post here

tysm @DivineCrocodile on twt for letting me use your art !!

general!,

kris was often found waiting by the door for asriel and toriel to come home. they felt bad after the first time and got kris a hamster companion.. but it disappeared. no one knows what happened to it

kris howls. when they enter the dark world, when the moon is full, when the butterscotch pie is fresh. you cannot stop them by any means

before toriel and asgore got divorced, they would bury things in the family garden and then regift the stolen items

“merry christmas," kris muttered, dropping a gold necklace in toriel's stocking. their tail flicked like a metronome, expectant.

toriel eyed all of the jewelry she'd been missing. kris was rather smug over how they rendered her speechless.

asriel fought back a flinch when he pulled a dented medal out of his stocking.

toriel placed a hand on kris' shoulder, smiling awkwardly. “thank you, dear. this is very thoughtful of you."

to asgore's dismay, he found that his garden had been disrupted that morning. a strong floral scent which was hard to miss was coming from his carefully decorated stocking.

since then, only wrapped presents were allowed during the holidays.

doesn't like the rug in the living room. tries to destroy it in various ways when no one is looking. the spot where kris repeatedly dug into the carpet is currently covered by chairiel

kris is already unhinged as a human, but in this form, there's this newfound habit of biting. they tear open packets with the plastic between their teeth. kris cannot be trusted in a jacket or hoodie for too long

territorial instincts. they're even more protective of their friends than usual. even if kris doesn't say much, their body language is telling enough

with susie!,

kris' silence along with those 'stupid' ears fueled susie's initial dislike for them. now, it's just something she teases them for

susie used to find the howling unbearable, but she went "fuck it" and started joining them after a while

kris is a clingy loyal friend, and it shows more in the little things they do: waiting for susie after class, hanging out with her during breaks, walking home with her every day

“so, how's the puzzle going?" susie raised a brow at kris, who'd been messing with the levers for a while. “guess we can't all be geniuses. you know, i could always just use my axe to-"

*bzzzzt*

the obstacles disappeared! right before susie could celebrate (and while ralsei was praising kris' skill), they started yowling.

instead of earning a "the hell are you doing?" from susie like they used to, they received a howl in return. the pair carried on, leaving an exasperated ralsei a three paces behind.

they're always found play-fighting/wrestling in the dark world and outside of school

susie holds back during play-fights after chapter 1; kris doesn't. when it comes to swordsmanship, kris wins, but have you seen susie's arms?

kris fights dirty, even when they're just sparring with susie. a nibble here, a scratch there, a tail-in-the-face if the opportunity presents itself

"hey, kris!" susie waved before falling to the ground. she was caught off guard by their surprise attack. “oh, it's on."

susie had kris in a headlock shortly, ruffling their hair. she'd gone easy for a while, but couldn't let them win the whole time. dog monsters with egos are dangerous

“don't look at me like that. you were barking up the wrong tree."

susie finds kris amusing and loves their occasional chaotic energy

not as fast as kris. found out the hard way while trying to run from them with a ball in her pocket

kris would climb her if given the chance

with noelle!,

now that noelle is taller than kris, they like to subtly circle her. noelle resembles somewhat of a tree to them... but they try to maintain proper decorum to the best of their abilities. most of the time. would also climb her if given the chance

never voices it, but they have a lot of respect for noelle and will guard her from a distance in the dark world. that loyalty from a childhood friend (kris) isn't lost easily

kris doesn't enjoy listening to most people, but they feel a bit more inclined when it's noelle

contradicting the last bullet point – they like to do the exact opposite of what noelle asks/says, just to mess with her

noelle, susie, kris, and ralsei were in the cyber world, walking in their single file line. after queen left, kris grabbed ralsei's hand and booked it.

“???" susie blinked.

noelle's cheeks flushed, realizing she was left in the dust with susie. “kris?! get back here!"

they ran faster. the fleeing pair stopped around the corner.

“goodness! what was that for?" ralsei asked nervously. kris tilted their head back towards the path they'd come from.

noelle was giggling over something susie said. susie had her arms behind her head with a lazy smirk, acting indifferent despite how interested she really was. noelle caught their eye and mouthed something between, “thank you" or “i hate you" (it was the former).

kris was very proud of themselves.

tried to trim kris' claws after they accidentally tore open one of noelle's pillows. kris didn't resist, but the claws ended up growing back sharper the next day

another bad habit kris developed was tackling. while this would've initiated a playful tussle with susie, noelle is horrified. she lets out a yelp as if a mouse passed by

(younger days) it was nearing midnight when norlle squeaked in surprise at a sudden hug, “!!!"

the wind was knocked out of her and the pair had been sent hurdling into the newly built sleepover fort.

feathers and cotton flew from her favorite pillow. she was filled with dread and subconsciously petting kris, whose head was also turned to the descending filling.

noelle was always too sweet, though she did try to maintain some form of discipline. “you're not banned from pillow kingdom.. but we have to do something about these claws."

when noelle and kris were younger, noelle would brush and decorate their ears

with ralsei!,

whenever kris hugs ralsei, their tail begins to wag. even if it stops as they pull away, he always notices yet doesn't mention it

ralsei added a lint roller to kris' room in the dark world. the buildup of fur makes him sneeze

noelle doesn't go out of her way to assist anymore, so ralsei is the one kris seeks for guidance on fur maintenance. what started as a simple lesson on fur maintenance turned into a bonding ritual for them

kris entered their castletown without susie. ralsei was reading when they barged in unannounced. he smiled after his initial fear settled down and greeted them.

with careful consulting and consideration, ralsei decided to it'd be best to unknot kris' fur by the common wash-and-comb. In whichever special way fur works in deltarune, ralsei showed them the secret to keeping it soft.

kris returned the following week with soaking wet hair.

“I have a problem," they muttered. ralsei set his book down and draped a towel over their head, leading them to the fireplace.

they eased into a routine after that

kris doesn't like when ralsei walks behind them. when he does, they wait. they also just like being able to see all of their loved ones at once (even though they walk behind kris in game)

used to think of kris as more of a lost puppy than an individual

finds kris' presence warm and comforting, like tea

when they have minor injuries that don't require magic, ralsei uses an herbal honey to heal their wounds. after turning around for a few seconds.. ralsei finds that the applied honey is gone.

“ah! a papercut! allow me to patch you up." he applied the honey and turned to return the jar to its resting place.

“oh, uhm.. that's okay, kris! we all get hungry sometimes," ralsei smiled. kris stood there silently with honey coating their lips and a tail moving with pure joy

- yay finally done! thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed !!! sorry for the ooc writing. i just finished playing chapter 2, so i'm not that far in yet. it's been 2-3 years since i last posted, so i'm happy i was able to get this out ^^

♡ + ↻ are deeply appreciated !

[formulafanfics13]

Nipple Play with Max Verstappen because I'm kind obsessed with the theory that he had a nipple piercing 😭

Pierced Obsession - MV1🔥

Masterlist

Summary: She discovers Max Verstappen has a nipple piercing by accident — and once he realises how obsessed she is with it, he uses it to drive her insane. What begins as teasing turns into something far deeper, as she learns the one place on his body that makes him whimper, beg, and unravel completely.

Warnings: Includes nipple play (receiving), oral teasing, begging, light dominant/submissive dynamic (f dom / m sub), overstimulation, marking, grinding, soft degradation, worship, and themes of vulnerability, obsession, and using sensitivity as power. Consensual, filthy, and emotionally intimate.

The first time she noticed it was by accident. A flash of silver under his shirt as he pulled it over his head, post-training, flushed and glistening in the low Monaco light. Just a glimpse, barely a glint. She didn’t even say anything at first. She just stared.

“Something wrong?” he asked, casual, towel rubbing through his hair. He was shirtless, smug, stupidly hot in the way that made her furious.

She blinked once. Then again. “You have a nipple piercing.”

Max froze. Mid-rub. Then slowly dropped the towel and looked down. “You weren’t meant to see that yet.”

“You-you weren’t meant to be that hot when I did,” she muttered under her breath.

His eyes lifted. That half-smirk. “You like it?”

Like wasn’t even the right word. She ached for it. And once he knew that, once Max really understood how obsessed she was with it, he weaponised the fuck out of it.

It became a thing. They could be watching a movie, she in his lap, soft kisses down his neck, and his hand would snake up her shirt first,like it was reflex. His mouth all hot against her ear, voice low and rough. “You gonna touch mine too?”

“Touch what?” she teased, playing dumb.

His hips rolled up against her, slow and heavy, already hard. “You know what.”

She did. And she always gave in. There was something about the way he moaned when she touched him there. Something so involuntary, so addictive, so unlike the Max the world got to see. Max, the stone-faced predator on track. Max, the chaos demon in press conferences. Max, who didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought.

But when she rolled the little silver hoop between her fingers, when her tongue circled it just once, he whimpered.

And fuck if that didn’t make her feral.

They were in bed, late night, lights low, bodies already wrecked from round one. She was laid across his chest, kisses dragged lazily down the side of his neck, hips pressed against his thigh. “Babe,” he said softly. Voice hoarse. Need curling at the edges.

She looked up.

He didn’t say anything, just tilted his head toward his chest. “Please?”

It was pathetic. Ridiculous. Insane that Max Verstappen, who could dominate an entire Formula 1 grid with one look, was begging like this. For that.

But she moved slowly, deliberately. Straddled his waist. Kissed her way down his chest until she hovered just above the piercing. His breathing changed. Chest rising faster now. Anticipation vibrating under his skin.

“Tell me what you want,” she whispered.

His hands gripped the sheets. “Mouth. Please. Just-fuck, please.”

And when she finally took it between her lips, slow, wet, deliberate, Max lost every ounce of control.

His hips bucked. A deep, broken sound left his throat. “God-fuck. Do that again.”

She sucked softly, then harder, letting her teeth scrape just enough.

He twitched beneath her. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna kill me.”

She didn’t stop. She licked and sucked and played, until his whole body was thrumming, until he was grinding up against her, desperate for more. Until he was nearly crying with it, one hand in her hair, the other gripping her waist like she was the only thing keeping him tethered.

When she switched sides, teasing the other nipple, the unpierced one, he shuddered hard.

“That one doesn’t feel the same,” he gasped.

“Still good?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “But that one-” his fingers touched the ring, “-that one ruins me.”

She smiled. Dark and slow. “Good.”

Because she wasn’t stopping until he broke.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[pastel-rights]

And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.

[xoxojisu]

CLINGY!

synopsis: in your relationship with rin, you've always been the affectionate one. the touchy one. the clingy one. so one day, you pull back from touching him so much, and it kills him.

notes: "jisu isnt this idea oddly similar to this katsuki fic you just wrote? BOY SYBAU MY BLOG I CAN DO WHAT I WANT.

you always touch first.

you’re the one who loops your arms around him from behind. the one who squishes his cheeks in your hands and calls him pretty. the one who laces your fingers with his while he’s mid-sentence like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

rin calls you clingy.

he says it with a sigh, with a roll of his eyes, with a “god, again?” when you kiss the tip of his nose.

he grumbles and looks to the side, but he never pulls away.

so you thought it was okay.

until you start wondering. what if he’s just tolerating it? what if he just doesn’t know how to tell you to stop?

you don’t bring it up. you just… stop. quietly.

no more casual touches. no more kisses on the cheek. no more spontaneous hand-holding or forehead pokes or clinging to his arm while he scrolls his phone or as you walk.

at first, rin doesn’t notice. not really. he thinks maybe you’re just tired. maybe you’re distracted.

but two days pass.

then three.

and then he realizes something’s wrong.

you still smile at him the same way. still talk to him, still text, still sit beside him on the couch.

but you keep your hands to yourself. you don’t lean on him when you laugh. you don’t reach for him. at all.

and it’s driving him crazy.

he’s sitting next to you now, knees barely brushing, and he’s sweating. his hands twitch in his lap. he glances at you from the corner of his eye and you’re looking down at your phone, legs tucked up under yourself, completely unaware of the war he’s waging inside.

he wants to touch you so bad he feels nauseous.

goddamnit, he feels so.. needy. but he can't even bring himself to care much.

he wants to feel you. in any way, shape, or form. just wants to feel your warmth against his.

but he’s never had to be the one to start it. he doesn’t know how. what if you pull away? what if you don’t want it anymore?

his throat’s dry. his heartbeat’s stupid.

he gives in.

“…are you mad at me?”

you blink up at him. “what?”

he looks away instantly. cheeks dusted pink. “you’re not… doing your usual.. stuff. it's weird. so i figured you were mad.”

you frown a little. “you mean the clingy stuff?”

his eyes flick to you, then away. “…yeah.”

you’re quiet for a second too long.

he panics.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly. “i didn’t..! i-it's not annoying. i don’t want you to stop.” the words tumble out like he's been holding them in his whole life.

you look at him, surprised. “you don’t?”

he groans softly, dragging a hand over his face like he’s peeling it off. “i just say that because i've never really had it before. but i like it. i just don’t know how to ask for it. okay? i don’t know how to do that stuff. but you do, and i got used to it, and now you’re not doing it and it’s-” he cuts himself off, looking everywhere but at you. “…i miss it.”

you stare at him.

he looks miserable.

“…you miss me being clingy?” you say slowly.

he mutters, “don’t call it that,” but he’s blushing so hard now.

you try to hold back your smile. really, you do, but you can’t.

“so you like when i hang off you all the time.”

he groans again, turning his face into the couch cushion. “shut up.”

"aweeee, did my rinnie misssss me? he wants to be held?"

"shut up!" his face is on fire. he can't bring himself to look anywhere near your eyes.

you scoot closer. he tenses.

you lean in gently and press your forehead to his temple.

“i thought i was annoying you.”

he breathes in, shaky. “never.”

“so i can be clingy again?”

his answer is immediate.

“yes.”

but then, after a beat:

“but let me try, too.”

you blink. “try what?”

he reaches out with a hand that’s awkward, hesitant, and gently laces your pinkies together.

he won’t look at you. his ears are so red.

you smile so softly it hurts.

and you squeeze his hand back.

he sighs, relieved, and rests his head on your shoulder like he’s finally home.

(he is)

masterlist

[ttsukiimi]

───〃★ C’MERE, BRING THAT D⍣CK HERE .ᐟ

〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ You’ve been a good wife—you really have! But when your husband’s boss confronts you about him cheating with his secretary, you just can’t help but take up his offer to get back at him.

〃★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ nanami x fem!reader, gojo x fem!reader, Sukuna x fem!reader, geto x fem!reader, cheating (not reader), smut (mdni), exhibitionism (sukuna, gojo), slight n⍣pple play, slight cl⍣t play, slight creamp⍣e (geto), full Nelson (gojo), office s⍣x.

〃★ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ I was gonna add toji but realized his broke assss not the boss of anyone🤧

────〃ଘ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 - NICE ‘N SLOW

The wooden legs of his desk scrapped against the floor with every deep thrust, important paperwork scattered all over from how much he had you squirming from his slow, calculated movements. Your nails dug into the wood, scratching and latching onto the edge as your back arched, a cry of pleasure bubbling from your throat.

Was this wrong somehow? No. Your cheating scum of a husband should receive the treatment he’s given you. And you almost wished he’d walk in on the sight of his boss balls deep in his wife. Well, ex-wife, anyway.

Nanami leaned in to your ear and you shivered, feeling his breath fan past your neck, smelling his cologne and—fuck, you could feel his muscles through this suit against your back. “Hope you’ve finally found your worth. He never deserved you.”

His words entered one ear and came out the other with how hazy he had you feeling, cock penetrating you over and over in a cycle that had you feeling delirious. Your head spun, and the world seemed to blur from existence—except for Nanami; his hands, his words, his voice.

“I’ll make you feel better—cum better than he ever has.”

────〃ଘ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 - I’LL DO IT INSTEAD

Now, Satoru had always had his eyes on you. From the very first moment you came into the office, bringing your husband his forgotten lunch, he knew he had to have you. The whole interaction left him feeling bitter anyway—he only waved you off after he grabbed his lunch and refused to kiss you in front of his colleagues.

What kind of man was he?

Satoru had no problem fucking you in front of him, though.

You watched your husband’s wide eyes, embarrassed but basking in your sweet revenge. A smirk graced Satoru’s lips, his own focused on your husband’s flickering gaze from how he split your cunt open so lewdly to your bouncing tits as if in a trance.

“‘S how’s it feel? Watching your pretty little wife get ruined?” He breathed, strong arms folding you further into the full Nelson position he had you locked in. “You turned on, hm? Seein’ her lil’ cunt get fucked?”

Your eyes closed and your tongue lolled out, head thrown back onto Satoru’s shoulder as your hand came down to pinch your pulsing clit in circles.

Satoru peppered kisses upon your jawline and stopped by your ear. “Why don’t you tell him how good ‘m making you feel?”

────〃ଘ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 - DO IT BETTER!

You’d always had your eye out for your husband’s particularly hot and intimidating boss, though you’d always stray your gaze away from him out of respect and loyalty. Respect and loyalty that your husband never seemed to reciprocate.

And when his boss finally confirmed that he was cheating on you—you’d finally given into your fantasy of fucking him.

But this isn’t how you imagined your fantasy would go.

Everyone’s eyes were glued to you, either out of fear of what Sukuna would do or out of pure infatuation from how wet your cunt was. You sat on Sukuna’s lap, legs spread open for anyone and everyone to see—even your spouse whose face was a mix of anger and confusion.

He didn’t have the right to be mad right now.

You were almost about to curse him out when Sukuna slid in with one swift thrust. Your breath caught in your throat, tears already welling in your eyes as he began to move without giving you even a second to adjust to his abnormal size.

He bounced you on his lap, heavy balls smacking against your ass so loudly it resonated throughout the meeting room. His big hands groped your chest though your blouse, practically ripping it off you.

“I’ll show you fuckers how to properly fuck a pretty lil’ thing like her.”

────〃ଘ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 - LIKE YOU DESERVE

Heat creeped up into your face. You hadn’t expected your day to amount to anything—considering your husband’s boss had told you about his affair just a day before—but there you were, sat on the same man’s lap as he fucked up into your cunt.

I’ll fuck you like you deserve. Those were his words—the words that got you here in the first place.

Suguru’s fingers toyed with the hood of your clit, pinching the nub of nerves in such a gentle yet pleasurable way that had shocks of electricity rocking through you. Your legs shook and quivered with how wide he had you spread them, muscles beginning to feel sore after some amount of time.

But Suguru hadn’t had his fill yet, he had to show you—make you feel what your husband couldn’t do to your body. So, with his cock still pumping in and out of you recklessly, two fingers entered your mouth while his unoccupied hand pinched and twisted your hardened nipples.

“Suck,” he ordered, and you did. It was almost embarrassing how fast you complied, wrapping your tongue around his thick digits as you suckled on them, excess saliva dribbling down your chin.

And it was all so lewd. The ring of cum coating his cock from both your multiple orgasms, your red and pulsing clit, your moans—and shit. If Suguru knew one thing it was one thing only; he would keep his promise and fuck you like you deserve.

[bi-writes]

the new baby you take care of is the cutest baby you've ever met. (a lil dubcon, baby trapping, 18+)

he has a big head with a tuff of little blond waves, and he has the brightest brown eyes in the entire world. he smiles at every face you make at him, and he takes a bottle like a champ and will nap for hours as long as you're quiet.

his father has a strict schedule set for him. when you met that big man for the very first time, you were speechless. your teeth had clacked together with how fast you tried to close your gawking mouth, but it was impossible not to with how much he towered over you, nearly touching the top of the doorway.

he is methodical, down to every minute. tacked onto the fridge, he had shown you his son's current schedule, which he emphasized with a dead glare must be followed to a T.

two feedings in the morning followed by a nap. another feeding. a longer nap. another feeding. another nap. all separated in increments of 45 minutes, with instructions on how to use the bottle warmer and how to measure the formula.

his son does not cry. his father had told you, if he cries, y'r doin' somethin' wrong. and he was right. the baby only cried when he was hungry, and he would fall into a dead sleep as soon as you gave him a bottle.

it's odd, to take care of someone else's baby. especially this man's. there's no woman in the house, as far as you can tell. the whole house is decorated very minimally, cozy and in shades of warm greens and cool blues and browns. there are no heeled boots by the door or pretty fur coats, and whenever you pass by his bedroom, only one side of his bed ever looks lived-in. there are no pictures on the walls, no makeup in the bathroom drawers, and no pads or tampons under the sink.

just a big, unfeeling man and his big, adorable baby.

but you think that your actions to get this big, unfeeling man to like you are starting to have the wrong kind of implications.

it starts with dinner. you start to make it, using the ingredients from his fridge to make stews and buttery mashed potatoes and roasted veggies. the image of you stirring a pot with his baby on your hip has not left him, and whenever you don't have some kind of meal cooking when he gets home, you answer to someone curt, annoyed, and cold, even to the touch.

then it's the decorating. you thought his couch was a little bare, so now there's a few throw blankets laying across the back of it. there's a vase of pretty tulips on the coffee table. you're growing herbs on the windowsill, little pots of thyme and rosemary and basil. you leave house shoes by the door now, and even when you're not there, he sees those fuzzy pink slippers in the foyer, and he can't help the way he chubs up just seeing them when you're not around.

you start to bring some extra changes of clothes. after the baby spit up on you more than once in a day, you bring a duffel bag with you once a week with extra changes of clothes. he snarls when he sees your clothes in one of his drawers; pretty black panties and matching bras, all laid out under your lounge wear right next to his fucking socks.

the toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. the multi-colored chapsticks in the drawers. tampons and pads organized in the cabinet, your moisturizer next to his shaving cream. he smacks his fist against the wall when he sees the finished package of your birth control in the trash because wot the fuck are y'doing taking those things when y'know i want another--

he can see you in the baby monitor. swaying in the dark of his son's room, the baby's head on your chest as you rock him softly. you're singing a little, a gentle hum to soothe him enough that his eyes start closing. he groans a little when he sees your eyes shut as you kiss his son on the forehead, cooing at him as you pat his little back and tell him to have sweet dreams.

you're making brownies when he comes home that night. his son is seated in his high chair, clapping his hands, and you're smiling at him and cooing in that baby voice you do as you take the warm brownies out of the oven. when you see him emerge from the darkness of his living room, you smile at him, taking off the oven mitts.

"hi, simon," you say softly, and his pupils dilate when you slip a hand over his son's head to soothe him. "i made some dessert, hope that's okay. thought you might wanna try my new recipe."

simon comes into the kitchen as you take his baby out of his high chair. you hoist him up against your hip, and when simon comes closer, you giggle as tilts his head to the side and stares down at you both. you tilt your head back a little, blinking up at him, and the flutter of your lashes is enough to have him rock hard in his cargos as his hands curl into frustrated fists at his sides.

"i'm gonna put him down for bed, it's a little late," you tell him. you hoist his son up a little higher on your hip, picking up his little chubby arm and waving up at simon. "say goodnight, daddy."

simon grins under his mask at the soft lilt of your voice. you try not to squeak when one of his big hands slides around your waist to hold you at your back, and he bends down to kiss his son's forehead through his mask.

"goodnight, my boy."

you try not to linger on the idea that he may have grabbed your ass as you walked away. no, his arms are just so long, they grazed you while you passed by him.

the baby always goes down nice and easy. one bottle later, with a full stomach, he's rubbing his little eyes and fussing in your arms as he tries to fall asleep. he's a mover, simon's little one--always grasping around with his arms and flopping onto his side in the bed. oftentimes, after a nap, he's facing the opposite direction and on the other end of the crib when you come to get him.

so you shouldn't be surprised when as he's falling asleep, his little grubby hands reach for you and pull.

your eyes widen when you hear the pop of buttons. you look down, gasping, when you see his son has grabbed onto the front of your blouse and pulled the first few buttons out. they clatter onto the floor in a mess, and you're not able to see where they go with it so dark in his room.

"oh, god!"

you try to be gentle as you set the baby down in his crib. he immediately sticks his thumb in his mouth with his head lolling to the side, and you try to pick up anything you step on as you hurry out of the room, trying to hold your shirt together.

it's useless. you're standing there in the hallway, hastily shutting the baby's room closed, tits out at eight in the evening.

"tha' why he so good ta ya, mama?"

your eyes bug out of your head when you see simon there. he's standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes are focused on your poor open blouse. the bra you're wearing leaves nothing to the imagination--just mesh with underwire, and when simon comes closer, there's virtually nothing separating you when he reaches up with that gloved hand and cups one breast, thumb smoothing over your nipple before he tugs on it gently.

"wha--simon--"

"thinks y'r his mum, pretty tits out like tha'," simon hisses. "'f ya wanted it so bad, why didn't ya just say?"

"simon--"

he tsks, using both hands this time to grip your blouse by the edges and tug it down your arms. it falls around your elbows, and he takes the straps of your bra with it, until it's pooled around your waist and your tits fall free.

"fuckin' hell," he breathes, and your lips part gently as he hikes up his mask and spits on your nipples before sucking them into his mouth. "mmmph..."

you arch your back as he rips the rest of the buttons off with one smooth tug. your blouse falls, and your bra follows it, until you're in nothing but your skirt, backing up into the darkness of his bedroom as he kicks the door shut. you scramble to get him back on top of you when your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you're laying down--grabbing around his shoulders as you try to guide his mouth back to your breasts where he can suckle on them with that filthy mouth of his.

"knew it--" he rasps. "fuck, i knew it--"

your eyes squeeze shut when he ruts his hips against yours. your panties are ruined, slick wet and digging uncomfortably into your folds, but the scratch of simon's jeans have your back bowing at a hard angle, your fingers sliding between your bodies as you reach for his zipper. you gasp when you feel him under your hand, straining against denim, the girth of him tying your stomach in hard knots as you think about what it'll take to get you open enough for him to slip in.

"keepin' me fat," simon murmurs. "holdin' my baby like tha', wot did ya think was goin' ta happen, eh?"

"h-huh?"

"'m gonna make you fat, too, swee'eart," he says, smoothing his hand over your tummy. "saw those little pills in y'r bag. it won't take today, but we'll try again tomorrow, yeah?"

you're drooling as he fucks you. your hips are hiked up, your skirt flipped up as his thighs smack against your ass. you're not privy to the way the fat of you shakes every time he's buried to the hilt, but simon appreciates it, tongue out as he watches you push back against him to try and get yourself filled quicker. he traces your spine with his fingers, leaning over you as he watches your fingers dig into his dark sheets and grip for dear life as he gives it to you fast and deep. it's a mess of wet between you, and you know the bed underneath you will be soaked by the time he's done with you, but you can't think about that when the very thing you've been wanting since the day you met him is so close, so within reach.

you haven't taken a single one of those pills since the first week you met that fat, beautiful baby. maybe simon didn't take too close a look at the dated little pills in your bag and in the bin, the little calendar you used to mark rotting away in a forgotten pocket, gathering dust.

when simon comes, your mouth is filled with saliva, and you gurgle between barely-lucid giggles as your hips sink into the mattress. he's saying something, but you don't hear it. instead you reach down with your fingers and stuff them inside, trying to gather as much of his cum and keep it. when simon tries to cum in your mouth later, you nearly bite his dick off.

how dare he try and waste it?

[choslut]

# PUSSY TALK !! (vi x reader)

$YNOPSIS. you’ve been feelin’ a little insecure about yourself lately. good thing you have a girlfriend who’s head over heels for you, no matter what! // wc. 2.4k

warnings. insecure!reader, talk of body image + weight, face sitting, spanking (ass + clit), praise, dirty talk, stripping, oral sex, size kink (?), teasing, fingering, begging, squirting, overstimulation, mirrors, awkward aftercare, spooning, pet names

NSFW below the cut. minors, stay away. enjoy your read!

Dresses aren’t your favourite piece of clothing. They never have been and they never will be, and even as you stare at yourself in the floor length mirror of your bedroom, you absolutely hate how this dress looks on you.

When you asked for something flared that would hide your curves, you didn’t expect your tailor to make you look like an overstuffed cream puff. The flared sleeves hang off of your arms like misplaced scraps of fabric, and the material pools at your feet, surrounding you in an unceremonious circle. You look frumpy, you feel frumpy, and nothing in the world could have convinced you that this is the dress you were going to wear to the annual Councillor’s Gala.

“What the fuck…” You turn around to inspect the back, and it’s even worse than you thought. It seems as if the tailor has attempted a daring backless design, but to you, it just looks like a gaping hole, the fabric tight and loose in all the wrong places before messily accumulating just above the apple of your ass. It looks horrible, and if you weren’t insecure enough, this dress makes you feel like a laughing stock. 

And that’s when the dreaded words come out of your mouth. “I seriously need to lose weight.”

Someone doesn’t like that, because out of nowhere, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and a sharp chin on your shoulder. “And why’s that? I think it looks perfect.” 

Vi loves seeing you in dresses. She thinks they make you look so graceful, no matter what shape you choose. It solidifies the fact that you are her perfect princess, and she will never understand why you hate them when they make you look so pretty. 

She also doesn’t understand this whole weight thing you have going on. If anything, one of the things that first had her on her knees for you was your body, and like now, she always feels a need to be touching it, whether it be stroking your thighs or kissing your collarbone or, like now, wrapping her arms around your perfect waist and pulling you into her chest. 

“‘M not perfect though, Vi,” you grumble, hands running along the sides of your chest and resting over where her hands cradle your tummy. “I look like a creampuff.” 

“Creampuffs are sweet. I like creampuffs,” she says, her eyes making contact with yours in the mirror as she noses your neck. “I like you.”

You roll your eyes and whine. “I know you like me, Vi. But that’s not gonna change the fact that I hate this dress.” 

“Take it off then.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like you’re not going to be stuck in it for three whole hours, playing the part of a member of high society whilst trying your hardest to ignore the obvious stares at the atrocity which is your outfit. You want to tell Vi that it seriously isn’t as easy as that, but you’re distracted by her hands slipping into the open back of your dress. 

“I can help you,” she whispers in your ear, and you can feel the cold metal of her nose piercing against your heated skin. “Take it off, I mean. Relax.” 

“Vi…”

“Can we try something?” She begins to kiss your neck slowly, and you whimper when you feel the rough scar on her lip brush against your heated flesh. “I know you’ve been feeling some way about your body lately, and to be honest, I have no idea why because your body is already so fucking perfect…” Her hands slide up the insides of your dress, and you lift your shoulders automatically as she slips those god awful sleeves off of your shoulders. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”

After all this time, she hasn’t broken eye contact once, and you notice her eyes go dark when she shoves the front of your dress down, only to find your perky nipples staring right back at her. “What is it?” 

“Sit on my face,” she states simply, hands coming round to rub at your tits. “I want all of it, baby. Your whole body. I want you to fuckin’ suffocate me.”

You probably will. You stare at your girlfriend in the mirror incredulously, because there’s no way in the universe that you’re going to sit on her face. Not in a million years, and certainly not today. “No.”

“Give me one good reason why not.” She has a point, because it’s getting increasingly hard to refute her when her hands are making their way underneath the front material of your dress, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your regulation panties. “Go on, give me one good reason why you shouldn’t sit on my face.” Before you can open your mouth to protest, Vi smiles and bites your shoulder. “And your weight is not a valid answer.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Violet.”

“Yes, baby?” She acts like nothing is wrong, like asking you to crush her skull in between your legs a couple hours before the most important event of the year is a completely normal request. And she continues to act this way, even when she slips her hand into your panties, fingers eagerly in search of your clit. “So what I’m hearing is you don’t want to sit on my face, and you don’t want me to make you feel so good that you forget all about this stupid dress and that stupid gala?” 

Your back arches into her chest when she starts rubbing your clit in small circles, lips widening into a smile as she watches you unravel against her. “That’s not what I said.” 

“So why are you acting like you don’t want it?” She’s taunting you now, fingers halting all movement on your clit and sliding down lower, tips starting to tease your quivering hole. “Because I know you want it, baby. She’s telling me you want it.” 

You hate how Vi can read you like a book. You do want this, but you’re worried, and she makes sure to eliminate of all of that worry by slipping her fingers into your cunt, mouth dropping open in wonder when you begin to crumple against her.

“Vi, please.” 

“No.” Stubborn. “You’re not cumming unless you’re where you're supposed to be, princess. My game, my rules, and no amount of that pretty begging is gonna change that.” 

You bite your lip as you feel her palm grind against your clit, fingers speeding up and continually assaulting your sweet spot. It’s so hard not to beg her to let you cum, especially with the way she’s holding eye contact with you so intensely. 

“Say the words, and that orgasm’s yours,” she mumbles, smile ever present as her fingers alternate speeds. “Come on baby, I know you can.”

You can, you will, and you do. Your pleas to cum are replaced with nonsensical begging and whimpering, your hands futilely clawing at her biceps as you try to rip her fingers away from your weeping hole. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, just let me cum, Vi, please-”

All of a sudden, the pressure building up inside of you dissipates, and you notice Vi licking her fingers clean as she backs towards the bed. “That’s what I like to hear,” she laughs, sitting down on the bed in a way that has you weak in the knees. “Come take a seat, princess.” 

Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes to have you stepping out of the pool of fabric on the floor and crawling onto the bed towards her, legs planted on either side of her hips as you bend over and catch her lips in a heated kiss. It’s loud and it’s messy, her hands sliding up your thighs and onto your covered ass as you grind down onto her knee, tongue intertwining with hers in a clash of passion and need. 

“Good fucking girl,” she groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slapping it hard, drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. “Come on, baby, c’mere, come sit.” 

Your hands splay the surface of her chest as you push her back onto the bed lightly, chest heaving gently with every heated breath you take. Vi looks up at you like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, because to her, you are, and she wouldn’t want to be underneath anyone else. 

“There she is,” she whispers as you situate yourself comfortably on her chest. “My pretty girl, huh?” 

“I’m nervous,” you mumble, hips beginning to move slowly as you plant your hands on either side of her head. “I… don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Trust me, you won’t.” She captures your hips in her strong hands and pulls you further up her body, letting you hover just above her collarbone. “I’ve lifted this perfect body with my own two hands before. What makes you think a little face sitting will hurt me?” 

In a way, she’s right. Vi is strong, more so than most people. If it got too much, she would be able to move you effortlessly, and-

You’re pulled out of your train of thought by the feeling of Vi’s nose nestling in between your legs, rubbing up against your pulsing clit under your panties. “Vi…”

“You’re thinkin’ too much, baby,” she groans, voice muffled in between your thighs. “Just do it.” This time, she doesn’t leave you any time to think, because she’s now mouthing at your cunt through your panties, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you ever closer. You gasp in surprise, one hand coming up to grip onto the headboard as you fight not to lose balance. 

Another thing about Vi: she’s impatient. And when you hesitate to begin moving your hips, she does it for you, fingers pulling the seat of your underwear to one side and arms pushing you down hard. 

“She’s so wet, baby, I don’t know how you can say you don’t want this.” Her tongue darts out to lick your throbbing clit and you whine, hips stuttering as you stare hazily at the mess of pink hair in between your legs. Vi is staring up at you with lust swirling in her eyes, and you can feel her smile on your cunt as her tongue slides downwards to your entrance. “I mean, she is practically begging me to eat her out. Is that what you want?”

Before you can answer her, you’re caught off guard by her hand slapping at your clit playfully, sending pleasured shockwaves throughout your system. “ ‘M not talking to you anymore, silly,” she laughs, thumbs rubbing at the area she just assaulted. “I’m talking to her, since my girl doesn’t seem to know what she wants anymore.”

“Stop it,” you grumble, but Vi pays no notice, resuming her languid licks on your pussy. Your protests are quickly turned into prolonged whines and whimpers of her name, the pressure once taken from you beginning to build in your core with each shallow thrust of her tongue into your hole. 

“Not until she’s satisfied, angel.” And she means it, because the grip she has on your thighs is nothing next to lethal, and you feel yourself begin to shake as the pressure builds more and more. “And she’s getting close, don’t you think?”

She is. Your head begins to swim and you tangle your fingers in Vi’s hair in an attempt to stabilise yourself but it proves futile, mouth dropping open as you beg her to let you finish. “Vi, please, please, I’m sorry, I-”

“Nothin’ to apologise for, angel, you’re doing a great job.” You have no idea how she still manages to speak when she’s being all but crushed in the trap that is your quivering thighs, but her voice drives you ever closer, your hips grinding down onto her happily awaiting tongue as you chase your orgasm desperately. You want it- no, you need it, and when she begins to massage your ass sensually, you think you might just squirt.

“Vi...”

“Yeah, baby? Is she telling you something?” She loves playing this game, delaying your orgasm as long as possible whilst making it impossible to hold yourself back. It feels like her hands are everywhere because suddenly her thumb is massaging your clit, and you’re begging her like there’s no tomorrow.

She seems satisfied by your begging, because she takes one arm off of your thigh to use her fingers to fuck your needy cunt. “Cum for me baby, c,mon. Give it to me.”

And give it to her, do you, and in gracious abundance at that. Your juices drench her face unceremoniously as you twitch above her, spine shaking as you hold on to her hair for dear life. You’re all but riding her tongue, and she’s moaning profusely into your cunt, the vibrations only heightening your sensitivity. And try as you might, you can’t pull her away, her mouth a suction as she pushes you unforgivingly into overstimulation.

When you’re all but ready to surrender your stability to her relentless assault in between your legs, you feel a strong pair of hands lifting you off of her mouth gently, and light kisses being littered all over the expanse of your thighs. Vi’s mouth travels along your skin lazily, her powdery blue eyes looking up at your shaky form with nothing but love etched into her irises. You barely begin to register the sweet praises she gives you, instead basking in the afterglow of your intense climax mixed with the feeling of her hands stroking your back.

Moments later and you’re laying down on the bed next to her, curled in a foetal position as you fight the army of sleep threatening to overthrow you. “Are you tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Why don’t you… skip the gala? Stay here with me, I’ll cook, and…”

You think the difference between the Vi laying next to you now and the Vi who made you climax to the brink of passing out is a cute one. She’s never been too good with aftercare, instead trying to make awkward conversation in an attempt to divert from the fact that she just rocked your world in more ways than one. “We can stay home. I’ll tell the organisers I wasn’t feeling too well.” That, and the fact that god awful dress made you want to bust a nerve.

Vi smiles at you gently, and you wish you could stay like this with her forever. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”

© this work belongs to choslut. do not copy, translate, repost or feed my work into any regenerative ai system.

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[miaoua3]

bitches had a lot to say about scoups’ cute little tummy in the thunder mcountdown performance and it pissed me off, especially because i know for a fact that it affected him a lot since he immediately announced that he was starting a diet. i love his tummy so much and it breaks my heart seeing that he feels insecure about it. so, here is a bit of an appreciation for coups and his little tummy❤️

(pairing: bf! scoups x f!reader)

tw! negative views on body!

the moment he stepped foot inside your shared apartment, you could see that something was wrong with your cheollie.

he had this troubled frown glued to his face, lips set in a sad pout as he quietly took off his shoes and jacket.

when you tried greeting him somewhat enthusiastically, he weirdly turned you down, instead of kissing your lips like he always does, his lips landed on your cheek, before he quietly excuses himself to take a shower.

which is even weirder, because cheol always eats first before he takes a shower. he always says that he feels bad that he keeps you waiting so much, preventing you from eating the dinner because you don’t like eating alone.

so, for him to turn down dinner, to barely say anything to you, to immediately cut himself out of the world by going to the bathroom?

you knew that something bad has happened.

carefully listening against the door, you waited until you heard the water turn off, giving him another minute to dry off and put something on.

you two had so much trust in each other that cheol didn’t even blink when the doors opened, your head peaking inside.

the scene in front of you broke your heart.

cheol, in his beautiful and buff form, was silently standing in front of a mirror, eyes filled with annoyance and…hatred clearly focused on one thing.

his belly.

unsure hands hovered above the said tummy kind or like he was so disgusted with himself that he couldn’t even bring himself to touch you.

you eyebrows immediately furrowed in pain, almost like it was his own pain that you were feeling inside your body.

quietly walking in and shutting the door, you walked over to him, his broad body covering your whole body, making you unable to see yourself in the reflection.

you loved that so much-that he was so soft, big, buff and strong. his body, just like his soul, was hardness covered with a layer of softness. you loved hugging him because it always felt like you had your own personal teddy bear to cuddle with.

although you may not be able to read minds, you can tell what cheol is thinking about.

and just like you predicted, he quietly says with a voice full of disgust “don’t look at me please. i look…so disgusting.”

deciding to ignore his words, your arms wrap themselves around his waist, head securely resting on his back between his shoulder blades. you inhale his fresh scent as you close your eyes.

ever so slowly, you touch his tummy with flat hands, softly rubbing it up and down in comfort.

with a serious voice you question him.

“do you know why i love you so much?”

cheol stays quiet.

you decide to continue.

“you have the softest soul ever. although you always try to stay strong for other’s, you never hid the fact how gentle your soul is. from the very beginning, you let me see your bad, fearful and broken pieces. i knew from there on, that your heart is made of glass-it’s enough to use only small amount of force for it to break.”

you feel cheol swallow under your cheek.

“so, i know how easy other people’s opinions affect you. i know that if it’s something you already dislike about yourself, and they say something bad about that part of you, that you will immediately start hating yourself.”

you pause for a second to swallow before you continue.

“what i don’t get is how anyone-you included-could hate any part of you when you are the most beautiful man ever? you…you are so kind, protective of the people you love. you always face everything with fierceness, even when you yourself are scared of it. not only are you beautiful from the inside, but you, exactly as you are right now, are just as beautiful from the outside.”

cheol feels a something heavy stop in his throat, his eyes that are looking back at him in the mirror now filled with unshed tears.

“your body is so beautiful, baby. it’s strong…firm in a way that it makes you feel…reliable. almost as if i am protected simply because you are so strong. but it’s also wrapped with a layer of…softness. which isn’t a bad thing. it just makes cuddling and kissing it that much more enjoyable. this little tummy? that’s my favourite part of you. wanna know why?”

you see cheol nod his head as he uses one of his hands to wipe away the tears, deeply sniffling as he does so.

you use your hold on his tummy to slowly turn him around, his red eyes looking at you brokenly.

pushing away his hands, you wipe away his tears, smiling gently as you end your words.

“because that tummy exists because of me. because you let me take care of you. because i make sure to feed you well. that tummy that you were just thinking of getting rid of? that’s my love coming to the surface.”

cheol closes his eyes, shoulders shaking as he cries quietly.

even quieter than you have been talking just now, you gently yet firmly ask him.

“do you want to get rid of my love then?”

shaking his head ‘no’, he finally-finally-lets a son out, strong arms wrapping around your body as he lets his head hide in your neck, wetness smearing against your skin as his tears keep on falling.

as you rub his back in comfort, you promise to yourself one thing.

i will never allow him to feel or think about himself like this ever again. not when he’s the most perfect person to have ever existed.